


Attack on Kaiju

by Kyogre



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Community: snkkink, Crossover, Gen, Kink Meme, Maybe - Freeform, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyogre/pseuds/Kyogre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(prompt fill) Pacific Rim AU with a focus on world-building.</p>
<p>After more than a decade of living in constant fear of the Kaiju, humanity had finally believed itself to be safe behind the Wall, allowing their guardians, the Jaegers, to be dismantled. However, as the Wall proves unable to stand against the Kaiju, the remnants of the Jaeger Program prepare to undertake their final mission -- to seal the Breach once and for all. </p>
<p>However, there are sinister implications that someone may be undermining the Jaeger Program from the inside. </p>
<p>(Ensemble. Focus on Jean, Mikasa, Eren and Levi.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys, so it’s kind of a gen ensemble piece? Despite what it might seem like, Jean is not the main character, just the focus of the first part. I apologize that some characters will get pretty small roles or not get elaborated on. At the very least, I tried to give everyone at least one moment to shine. 
> 
> I also tried for a good balance of merging the AoT backstories of characters with the movie storyline. I’ll be using the Pacific Rim terminology here, so Kaiju, real Earth locations, and also PC Jaeger names and models.

\-----------

Part I: Pilot

\-----------

“It’s too damn early for this,” Jean grumbled, struggling to bite back a yawn. However, his hands moved steadily to assemble his pilot suit, not fumbling even with the smaller, more complicated clasps. 

Marco smiled, entirely too cheerful for the ungodly hour, which existed somewhere in the lost time between late night and early morning. “Unfortunately, the Kaiju probably don’t have clocks,” he said, quickly finishing his own set up. 

“Bet they do, and they pick the most ass-backwards times on purpose,” Jean muttered, following his partner out of the prep room. The effort necessary to move in the somewhat clunky pilot suit forced him a little more awake, enough to finally return Marco’s encouraging smile. “Let’s just take care of this quick and get back to bed,” he said, smirking. 

“It’s a Category III, so don’t take it lightly,” Marco cautioned, always the sensible one. 

“Right, right,” Jean said with a snort. 

In front of them, the doors slid open to reveal the interior of a well-worn cockpit. Together, they took their places, their pilot suits locking into the mechanical harness. Jean grumbled wordlessly as they were jostled this way and that, but both of them took the sudden plunged down without even a hint of queasiness. 

There was a heavy metallic groan as the cockpit slid into position. The screen lit up, showing the interior of the launch bay. The operator’s calm, even voice called out activation sequence stages. 

“Neural handshake in three, two, one…” 

Not a particularly imaginative person by nature, Jean thought the term handshake was a very appropriate one. It was like reaching out and clasping hands, a connection you couldn’t see but could feel your partner’s every move through. Learn it well enough and every slight shift became as clear as if they had briefed you in full. 

As one, both Jean and Marco raised their hands and moved through the standard startup motions. 

On the outside, the massive man-made monster copied their movements. The Jaeger was a 79 meter, 1980 tonne death machine, and there wasn’t a single person who would not feel even a hint of something at the sight. 

“Gipsy Danger, all systems are go,” the operator announced. “Prepare for deployment.” 

“Back in this rust bucket,” Jean huffed, as Jaeger jostled again, being moved into position for launch. “Out here, in this frozen nowhere. Why couldn’t I get a real posting? Something nice and tropical, with a top of the line model…” 

The Anchorage Shatterdome’s launch bay doors opened, finally allowing Gipsy Danger to take a step outside, into the fierce storm beyond. With the weather so terrible they would have no choice but to walk to their target. 

The Jaeger in the pilots moved in synchro with each heavy step. Despite being buffered by the storm winds and the drag of the water, the massive machine advanced steadily, and the pilots were almost absent-minded in their continued motions.

Marco nodded along, his focused expression mostly hiding his amusement at Jean’s habitual grumbling, but the almost teasing feeling came across clearly in their Drift. 

“Of course,” Marco agreed easily. “In Los Angeles or Panama. Or even Sydney. They’re working on the Mark-V there, right?” 

“Right,” Jean said, ignoring the fact that Marco is making fun of him, and played along instead. “Well, maybe not Sydney. Wouldn’t want to wait that long.”

Marco nods. “Right. But you definitely could’ve been one of the three pilots for that Mark-IV.” 

“Still can’t believe they actually found someone,” Jean muttered. “But, eh, maybe not that one either. I’m not really interested in a three-way. Sounds fishy, you know?”

“Very fishy,” Marco said so blandly that Jean couldn’t hold back giving him an annoyed look. 

“Reaching the ten mile line,” the operator announced, and both pilots immediately focused. 

The intercept timing was never quite perfect, but it was usually good. The Kaiju had to be close, and they would need to be ready. Unfortunately, the storm was rendering all sensor readings even more uncertain than usual. 

The swell of noise might have been just another strong wave, but some instinct, shared between Jean and Marco, had them moving just in time. A Kaiju’s massive head burst from the waves, its long, thick, horn-like nose aimed straight for Gipsy Danger like a thrusting sword. 

“Shit!” Jean cursed, his voice lost in the screech of Kaiju shell over Jaeger armor. They had managed to dodge it just enough, but part of the lower chest armor had been ripped away. “It was aiming straight for the core!” 

If it had hit… they would have been dead in the water. 

That horribly familiar fear, the one that never went away no matter how many Kaiju he faced, welled up again. Jean was suddenly shaking, his thoughts racing far too quickly, flitting between all the ways he could die, they could die, they had to run-

Through the Drift, his terror flowed to Marco as well, resonating with Marco’s own fear. But Marco -- steady and determined -- didn’t waver, didn’t allow himself to be swept away. He had always been that way, amazing in his dedication, and that same calm grounded Jean. 

It was an instinctive, well-worn exchange, like a steadying hand on his shoulder, that passed by so quickly there was not even the tiniest stutter in their Jaeger’s movements. Before the Kaiju could recover from its lunge, Gipsy Danger was already turning, one massive elbow slamming down on the monster’s neck, while the other arm transformed to reveal its I-19 Plasmacaster. 

The particle dispersal cannon charged just in time. Its white-blue plasma blast tore through the Kaiju’s shell, but in confusion of pouring rain and crashing waves, there was no way to determine how seriously they had wounded it. 

“It’s gone underwater,” Jean realized, when the frantic moment of waiting for a counterattack stretched on too long. Would it try for an ambush? ‘When did Kaiju get so smart?’ he wondered. 

“We need to make sure it does slip past us,” Marco reminded him. Their most important goal was ensuring that the city ten miles behind them was not affected. 

“We’ll have Romeo Blue ready to deploy at the Miracle Mile-” the operator’s voice came over the comms, only to be abruptly drowned out. 

The Kaiju leapt out at them from below the water’s surface, having managed to luck upon the area where the sensors were weakest and visibility was almost nil. Instead of aiming for the body, like the monsters usually prefered, it clamped its massive jaw around Gipsy Danger’s transformed arm, right around the elbow. 

The joint was reinforced in case of such an attack, and the two pilots were already moving to activate and bring around their other Plasmacaster, when the Kaiju twisted its head and its entire body at just the wrong angle. 

Thick metal and alarm systems screeched deafeningly as the Jaeger’s entire arm was ripped away. 

Jean screamed as the feedback hit him. He could feel and distantly hear Marco trying to calm him, but he couldn’t focus past the pain, couldn’t concentrate. 

Neither had time to react when the Kaiju turned to attack again. It latched onto the Jaeger, and suddenly half of the Conn-Pod was ripped away, rain and wind filling the small chamber. 

Jean had turned to look at Marco, needing that connection to stabilize their fluctuating Drift. Their eyes met. He could see Marco’s lips form words. Behind him, something massive and monstrous moved. 

And then he was gone. 

The giant claw reached in through the opening torn in the Conn-Pod, wrapping around Marco and yanking him out, out of the harness, out of the cockpit, out of the Jaeger, out of Jean’s mind--

Everything after that was a blur, a confused mess of rain, flashes of the Kaiju and finally the light of the Plasmacaster of their-- his remaining Plasmacaster.

\-------

When he woke up, Jean was told he was lucky to have survived. 

The strain of forcing their-- his Jaeger to move alone had left him in a coma for several weeks. 

He numbly accepted congratulations on his recovery and praise for his valiant defeat of the Kaiju and hoped no one could feel how his hands were shaking with a bone-deep terror that never quite faded. 

The first thing he did after leaving the hospital was to file for transfer out of the Ranger Corps. As far as Jean was concerned, he would never pilot a Jaeger again. 

\------

Jean sighed in relief as his apartment building came into view. It had been a long day. Who knew that just sitting in a chair for eight-plus hours straight could make you this sore? Not to mention that one of his coworkers had spilled coffee all over his clothes. At least she’d been cute. 

He smirked, half-heartedly. Yeah, this was the life. Just a peaceful, average existence with no worries beyond whether he’d be able to get the stains out. He could just kick back and relax. There was no more need to worry...

But as he approached the apartment building entrance, some long-dormant instinct made Jean tense. 

Someone was waiting by the doors, and Jean could already tell it wasn’t one of the residents, locked out because they forgot their key. He didn’t think it was a visitor either, waiting to be let in. 

Jean’s eyes narrowed as he studied the stranger -- a teenager, dressed a little more nicely than he would expect from one of the local gangs. He didn’t slouch like those delinquents either, standing with almost military posture. 

Instead of putting him at ease, that made Jean tense further. A delinquent he could handle; despite his own internal protests, Jean had stayed in shape enough for that. This, whatever it was? Jean didn’t need that. 

But it was too late to turn around and walk away, as the teenager looked up and met Jean’s gaze, staring back like it was a contest. 

“Are you Jean Kirschstein?” the boy asked. 

On the one hand, agreeing seemed like a bad idea. On the other, Jean suspected that denying would be pointless. The kid probably knew what he looked like. So Jean said nothing at all. 

The teenager frowned, realizing Jean was not about to answer. “You were the pilot of Gipsy Danger, right?” he asked instead, his tone even more determined. 

Jean’s eyes narrowed. “Do I look like I’m that dumb?” he asked, trying to deflect the question. He didn’t need someone overhearing that kind of statement and getting ideas. 

He could feel the boy boring holes into the side of his head with his glare. “But you’re Jean Kirschstein, aren’t you?” he insisted. “You piloted the Mark-3 Jaeger Gipsy Danger from 2017 to 2020, with confirmed kill total of--”

“Shut up!” Jean hissed. Lowering his voice, he added acidly, “Are you trying to get me killed? Even if you’re wrong, if that kind of thing got back to those cultist wackjobs, I’d be dead meat.” 

The boy flinched, looking startled and chastised. “...R-right. I’m sorry,” he finally relented. “I forgot.” His expression darkened as he considered Jean’s words. 

The identities of Jaeger pilots were made secret after several assassination attempts -- some even successful -- by the insane cult that worshipped the Kaiju as God’s righteous punishment upon the wicked. 

Few pilots retired. But those who did were supposed to be guaranteed anonymity. 

“Get out of here before I call the police,” Jean snapped, waving the kid away. 

However, the teenager only hesitated for a moment before stepping closer instead. “Wait, I just wanted to ask you about, um, piloting,” he said, his voice dropping to almost a whisper at the last word. 

“What the hell for?” Jean wondered, annoyed. “What are you, some kind of Jaeger fanboy?” 

“No! I’m going to pilot Gipsy Danger, and that’s why--”

Jean cut him off. “Haaaah?” he drew out. “What, are you delusional now? That thing is at the junkyard in California! Besides, the Jaeger Program’s being shut down!” 

The kid bristled. “It was repaired!” he shot back. “And the program’s not done yet!” 

“It’s got, what, six months left? Everyone knows funding’s been pulled from the Defense Corps,” Jean replied, unmoved. 

“Even if the government pulls out, the Commander has another backer!” the kid insisted before suddenly paling. He probably wasn’t supposed to mention that. 

Jean snorted. “Whatever,” he said. “You’re insane, all of you. You’re fresh out of the Academy, aren’t you? You’ve got no idea what you’re getting into.” 

The kid glared at him. He still looked like he wanted to punch Jean in the face, but there was also a sympathy there that turned Jean’s stomach. 

“If you don’t want to fight, that’s your choice,” he bit out. That same sympathy momentarily softened his expression as he added, “Drift partners are supposed be close, like family, so I can see why you’d not want to… But I’m not asking you come back and fight! Just tell me if there’s anything you can pass on, and I’ll fight myself!”

“There’s no point in fighting!” Jean snarled. “Why don’t you just quiet down and live in peace behind the Wall? It’s way better than having to risk your life for nothing!”

“I’m not going to live in a cage, like cattle!” the teenager snarled back. “And it’s not for nothing! We’re going to--”

He cut himself off suddenly, and Jean snorted, realizing the kid must have been about to blurt out something confidential. Again.

“Fine,” he bit out. “Whatever. I don’t want help from someone like you anyway. Go ahead and live behind your Wall, just waiting for the Kaiju to come and end you.” 

He turned his back on Jean sharply, but he only walked a few steps away, lingering near the apartment building entrance. As Jean mirrored the gesture, turning away with a scowl and fishing for his keys, the kid pulled out a cellphone and dialed someone. 

“Yes, I’m done. I’ll be waiting where you dropped me off,” he said. To Jean’s surprise, he sounded almost polite, especially when he added, “Thank you for indulging me, sir.” 

He stubbornly kept his back to Jean as he waited, watching the empty street with far too much focus. The apartment building door beeped quietly as the automatic lock disengaged, but for some reason, Jean found himself hesitating on the doorstep. 

Had he ever been that young and stupid? That gung-ho and enthusiastic about fighting Kaiju? No, Jean decided, he hadn’t. He had joined the Jaeger Program when pilots were seen as heroes, super-stars. He had just been in it for his own ego. He hadn’t understood how great the danger was, that he was putting his life on the line. 

When they had first met, he had even found it hard to believe that Marco honestly wanted nothing more than to protect people. He hadn’t believed it until he felt Marco’s honest, warm, strong passion for protecting everyone from the Kaiju when they first Drifted together. It had been--

Realizing suddenly that his hands were shaking, Jean clenched them into fists. 

“Hey, kid,” he found himself calling out before he even knew what he was doing. “Are you really going to pilot Gipsy Danger?” 

The teenager glanced at him over his shoulder, his expression distrustful and almost petulant. He looked young, just barely over the legal age limit for pilots. Stupid kid. 

“That’s right,” the teenager said shortly. He still looked angry, but he had half-turned to look at Jean again. “The repairs were completed just in time. My partner and I are going to pilot it.”

“They must’ve overhauled her a lot. She’s a Mark-3 after all, that rust bucket,” Jean mused. “But even with the updates, the suspension is going to be looser and her parts’ll move more than the sims would train you for. So she’ll be vulnerable in melee. I was thinking…” 

He trailed off, realizing all of a sudden what he was admitting to. Hadn’t he decided that he was done with the Jaeger Program? But Jean had never quite been able to stop thinking about it, especially that last battle. He’d gone over it in his head, time after time.

“I was thinking,” Jean continued, meeting the kid’s determined gaze, “that if you’re really up against the wall, a Kaiju up close and personal, you could use the reactor turbine to fire a directed heat blast. Should be enough to punch through a Kaiju’s shell. You could also try dumping some of your coolant, but that’d be a last resort.” 

It sounded so stupid to Jean, now that he said it out loud. Was that really the best he could come up with? No, more than that, why had he even been thinking about it at all? 

The kid was nodding along seriously, and Jean could almost see him mentally taking notes. 

“...That’s all,” Jean finished, shrugging uncomfortably. “After that, it’s all about skill and talent. And luck.” 

“Thanks,” the teenager said quietly. The same awkward atmosphere made him look away, fiddling with his jacket. They stood in heavy silence, until he suddenly added, “But I still think you’re wrong.” 

Jean looked at him askance. 

“It’s not for nothing,” the kid said. “We have to keep fighting and make sure everyone’s sacrifices weren’t meaningless. They didn’t die for nothing. Even if I die, I won’t die for nothing. I’ll keep on fighting for our freedom.”

With the way he kept blurting things out without thinking, he probably hadn’t meant it to sting as much as it did, but Jean found himself tensing as if he had been struck. 

He felt chastised, but also furious. Caught between conflicting emotions, he couldn’t muster up a response, and instead the tense silence stretched between them until a black car, somehow screaming “government,” turned down the narrow alley in front of the apartment building. 

The young pilot quickly moved down the steps as it pulled up, but when the side door opened in front of him, his entire posture snapped ramrod straight and he saluted sharply. With just one glimpse of the person inside, before his brain had even properly processed the sight, Jean found himself doing the same. 

“Sir!” the kid sounded off stiffly, and Jean barely managed to bite back the urge to echo him. 

Even years later, some instincts remained strong. That included giving the proper respect to his once superiors, especially the commander himself. 

Commander Erwin Smith looked the same as he had the last time Jean had seen him, as he resigned from the Ranger Corps. Still impeccably groomed, the commander was out of uniform for the first in Jean’s memory, though he made the tailored suit and coat look just as impressive. 

As his gaze fell on Jean, Commander Smith’s expression showed surprise. Jean wasn’t sure if he believed it. 

“I see,” he said, smiling mildly as he turned to the teenager. “So this is the personal matter you wanted to settle? I should have guessed this was why you wanted to come along.”

The kid flushed, straightening even further somehow. “Sir!” he replied, clearly preparing himself for a reprimand. Jean shot him a flat look. If he hadn’t explained what he was doing, he probably had no official authorization to be poking around in Jean’s records either. 

However, Commander Smith just looked faintly amused. He had always been well-known for his generally easygoing disposition and general tolerance of lesser deviations, which had proven to be a boon when it came to dealing with the many strange quirks that Jaeger pilots inevitably displayed. Jean had made use of that himself, sneaking out of the Shatterdome with Marco when they had time off but not leave. 

Still, Jean kind of wished he’d reprimand the kid properly. 

As if sensing his thoughts, the commander turned to look at Jean again, his expression still calm and pleasant. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” he said, as if Jean believed for a moment that he didn’t keep tabs on every person to have ever been part of the Jaeger Program. 

Jean nodded, biting back another instinctive salute. “Are you really going to keep the program going even though the Wall is almost complete?” he asked instead, trying to keep some accusing note out of his voice. 

“There are still many things we don’t understand about the Kaiju. Even if the general population is protected from the Kaiju threat by the Walls, the Jaeger Program can contribute greatly to the research on the nature of the Kaiju,” Commander Erwin said. He smiled a little wryly. “That’s what I told the brass, but they didn’t seem very open to the idea.”

“So you’re trying with civilian backers instead? Sir?” Jean asked as casually as he could, pretending to glance down at Erwin’s suit and coat. He could see the kid between them struggle not to tense up guiltily, having already spilled the beans to Jean. 

Given the way he smiled, Jean couldn’t help but feel that the commander was on to them. “Yes, that was the purpose of my visit to this city,” Erwin agreed. “It was a slim chance, I admit, but we are always looking for anyone willing to support our cause.”

“Can’t be too many of those. They’d have to be insane,” Jean muttered under his breath. The teenager shot him a glare, but Erwin’s pleasant expression didn’t waver. 

“We could certainly use someone with your experience in Jaeger combat,” Erwin continued as if he had not heard Jean. Perhaps he hadn’t, but Jean couldn’t bring himself to believe that. The commander was--

As the meaning of the commander’s words filtered through Jean’s brain, he froze and stared in surprise. The young pilot had done the same, staring at his superior, stupefied. 

“F-forget it! I decided to never pilot again!” Jean finally declared. “I haven’t gone anywhere near a Jaeger since I quit, and it’s not like you’re short on suicidal idiots like that guy.” He jerked his thumb toward the kid, who turned to glower in return. More quietly, he added, “And it’s not like I’m guaranteed compatibility with anyone now.” 

“Those are all true,” Erwin agreed. “But I didn’t mention anything about piloting.” 

He hadn’t. Jean had jumped to that conclusion himself. Even if it was a natural one to make, hadn’t he reached it a little too quickly?

“It doesn’t matter,” Jean insisted, shaking his head. “I’ve put all that behind me. I’m done with it, Jaegers, Kaiju, all of it.” 

Erwin studied him for a long moment, making Jean shift under his penetrating gaze. “Forgive me for saying this,” the commander told him finally, “but I don’t believe that’s the case. I don’t think you’re done with it at all.”

Jean refused to meet his gaze, and the commander sighed quietly. Approaching, he held out a plain card. 

“If you change your mind, we will be happy to have you,” he said, waiting patiently until Jean finally reached out to take it. 

Somehow, Jean had almost expected him to linger, but the commander turned away and ducked back into the waiting car without hesitation. After a moment and a final glance at Jean, the young pilot followed. 

In spite of himself, Jean couldn’t help but watch them drive away, the card crumpled in his clenched fist. 

\---------

That night, Jean had the same dream as always. A kaleidoscope of memories that didn’t belong to him, but had been left behind. He could see himself, that first day of training, walking like a time-lapse through the years that followed, until that last battle. 

The dream never changed, and that night it was the same. But he felt like there was something there that he had never noticed before. Some pattern that had always escaped him, a code he could finally begin to solve. The letters of the message rearranged themselves, and as he reached for it, he saw...

Himself, the way Marco had seen him. His partner had known both his strengths and weaknesses, but he had believed in Jean until the end. 

From their first Drift, Marco had believed that selfish, cowardly Jean could help him achieve his dream of protecting everyone, and following the strength of that determination, Jean hadn’t been able to do any less. 

But, once Marco was gone, Jean had crawled back into his old shell. He’d run away and hidden, trying to pretend all of it -- piloting, meeting Marco, losing him -- had never happened. 

Like it had never been. Like Marco had never existed. Like he had lived and died for nothing, pointlessly. 

“I’m such an idiot,” Jean muttered. 

Fumbling with his phone, he strained his eyes to make out the number on the card. 

\--------


	2. Partner

Part II: Partner

\---

“Hey, Jean!” 

Jean turned to look at the person who had hailed him, his eyes widening as he saw two familiar figures approaching. 

“Reiner, Bertolt,” he returned with a smile. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” Reiner -- the shorter man with pale hair -- agreed. “Good to see you back. Headed to the briefing? Us too.” He gestured to his partner, the taller, dark-haired Bertolt. “So I guess you’re the mystery pilot that’s joining our little group of crazies.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Jean grumbled. “What am I even doing here?” 

Reiner laughed. “You still sound exactly the same,” he commented. “You were like that in the academy too, always complaining.”

“How are you settling in? Any problems?” Bertolt inquired politely. They hadn’t changed much either, Jean thought, Reiner still friendly and dependable, Bertolt still nervous and awkward. 

“This Shatterdome is bigger than the one in Anchorage, but it’s about the same otherwise,” Jean replied, sidestepping the real question -- how was he dealing with being back after years of “retirement.”

“The Hong Kong Shatterdome was the first one built, and it’s the largest,” Reiner said easily. “Nine launch bays, can you believe it? Not that we have nine of anything to launch.” 

“What all do we have?” Jean wondered. 

“The commander will probably cover it in the briefing,” Reiner said, “but there’s your Gipsy Danger and our Crimson Typhoon. Then there’s the Mark-5, Striker Eureka. It’s supposed to be coming up from Australia.” He paused, looking at Jean meaningfully. “And there’s a Mark-1.” 

“A Mark-1? Can an old scrapheap like that even still move?” Jean wondered dubiously. 

“It’s the Coyote Tango,” Reiner added, an anticipatory grin threatening to spread over his face. 

Jean didn’t disappoint. His eyes widened comically as he stared in shock. “The Coyote Tango?” he hissed. “Are you serious? The Jaeger with the most confirmed kills? The one that was piloted by…” He trailed off, realizing something else. “You mean… he’s here?”

Reiner was openly smirking now as he enjoyed Jean’s reaction. Of course, he had been about the same when he first found out. 

“That’s right. Captain Levi is here too. The greatest Jaeger pilot, the only one to ever successfully pilot alone,” he confirmed. 

“But he doesn’t pilot anymore, right?” Jean remembered, his brow furrowing. “Since he lost his last partner. Is he just advising? No, why would they have his Jaeger then?”

Reiner shrugged. “That I don’t know. But I can tell you I’m glad to have another pilot with experience on board. Aside from us, it’s all rookies. The pair on the Striker are green, and so are the two they were going to give your Gipsy to. Well, I guess they’ll be reshuffling the pilots now.” 

“...Maybe,” Jean hedged, suddenly inexplicably awkward. “I mean, there’s no guarantee I’ll have compatibility with any of them. And a single pilot’s no good to anyone.” 

Maybe that had been the legendary Captain Levi’s problem. 

“Don’t worry,” Reiner told him, patting Jean on the back with a little too much force. “I heard they made a lot of new discoveries about Drifting. Supposedly, a couple years back, the academy added some new training to help decrease non-compatibility.” 

Jean raised an eyebrow at the double negative. However, before he could comment on Reiner’s wording, the other man, who had taken the lead as the one more familiar with the base, stopped in front of a set of double doors. 

“Here’s the briefing room,” he said, gesturing for Jean to follow him inside as the doors slid open. Bertolt trailed behind them. 

The room was similar to a lecture hall, a bit old fashioned but with fairly updated technology -- like the holographic screens in the center and inside the tables. It was mostly empty, though Jean suspected that it would remain that way. This meeting was only for the pilots, from what Jean had understood. 

In the front, he could see the same boy who had asked him for piloting tips, together with a dark-haired girl his age. 

“I don’t know if you remember her from the academy,” Reiner was saying, pulling Jean along toward one corner of the room, “but this is Annie Leonhart. She’s our third.” 

He gestured to the short woman who had been skulking in that corner. She glanced up at Jean with a cold blue gaze full of profound disinterest. He did, in fact, remember her, and the time she had almost broken his spine in hand-to-hand combat training. 

“P-pleasure,” Jean ground out. She regarded him for a moment longer, then turned away. Rather than a dismissal, it felt like a relief. 

“She’s a bit of a loner,” Reiner told him helpfully. Jean scowled at him. 

The doors slid open, and Commander Smith strode in, followed by a far shorter man, though his stature didn’t matter much. After all, in a Jaeger, you were hundreds of feet tall. 

Jean had been annoyed at Reiner for milking his startled reaction, but now he realized his old classmate had probably done him a favor. If Jean had seen the legendary Captain Levi walk in without warning, he might have done something profoundly embarrassing, beyond the blatant staring he was already engaging in. 

“Let’s begin,” the commander said, drawing everyone’s attention. “First, there may be a delay in Striker Eureka’s arrival. The UN has been trying to cover it up, but it will become public shortly -- the Wall was breached in Sydney.” 

There were no startled gasps or exclamations of disbelief. Of all the pilots, only Jean appeared genuinely surprised, drawing a sharp, quiet breath, though Reiner and Bertolt both frowned worriedly, their attention fixed on the commander. 

“Fortunately, Blause and Springer were able to intercept it quickly,” Erwin continued, “but the Australian government is doing its best to keep Striker Eureka from leaving the country, in case of another Kaiju attack.” 

“Are they going to restart the Jaeger Program?” Jean asked as the commander paused. It seemed like the logical course of action -- if the Wall couldn’t protect humanity, then the biggest argument for dismantling the Defense Corps was no longer valid. 

“I have not heard of any plans to do so in the immediate future,” the commander replied. 

“They’re probably squabbling over whose fault it is or some shit like that,” Levi spoke up, to the surprise of the other pilots. “No point waiting for them to finally get off their asses and do something.” 

“Nonetheless, Striker Eureka should arrive within the week,” Erwin continued, smoothly setting the issue aside. 

Jean wondered how he could brush it off so easily. Maybe it had to do with being active in the Jaeger Program. Maybe they had never believed in the Wall enough for its total failure to affect them. He could only imagine the kind of chaos that the news would cause in the rest of the world. People had honestly believed that they would be safe from the threat of the Kaiju, and now that hope was gone. 

“Before then, we will be conducting compatibility tests to determine the pilot lineup,” the commander said, breaking Jean out of his thoughts. “First will be Jaeger and Kirschstein, and Ackerman and Levi.” 

“Wait, his name is actually Jaeger?” Jean muttered after a moment of confusion, as the boy who had come to meet him glanced back from the front row. The girl next to him -- Ackerman -- glanced back as well, her gaze cool and assessing. She seemed more interested in Jean than in the fact that she would be Drifting with a legend. 

“I guess that makes sense,” Reiner said quietly. Jean shot him a questioning look, but the other pilot waited as the commander announced the test times and adjourned the meeting before explaining. “Ackerman -- I think her name’s Mikasa -- is supposed to be a prodigy when it comes to piloting. If anyone can match Captain Levi, it would be her. I sparred with her. It was a nightmare. Worse than Annie.” 

That was saying something, Jean thought, wincing as he remembered his own rare spars with Leonhart. 

“If the commander thinks they’re Drift-compatible,” Jean said thoughtfully, “why not test them before? I mean, if he couldn’t pilot until now because he had no partner, wouldn’t getting him out on the field be a huge boon? Even in a Mark-1, he’d do more good than Gipsy with two newbies.”

Reiner shrugged. “Maybe it’s not that he had no partner. Maybe he just lost his nerve or something. No one knows.” 

Jean could see how that might work. Losing a partner while in Drift… even just being without that stable, grounding, motivating force… 

It would be a tough order to fill, to replace what had been lost. 

Without thinking, he glanced toward the Jaeger kid, and their eyes met. If nothing else, he definitely didn’t lack passion and drive, that much Jean could already tell. 

“Are you going to talk to him before the test?” Reiner asked. 

“Not much choice. It’ll feel too much like a blind date otherwise,” Jean grumbled. 

Reiner nodded, his clearly mocking manner making Jean glare. “Yeah, it’s better if you two first get sweaty together out on the floor,” he agreed, smirking. Jean punched him in the side. 

He regretted it immediately, discreetly shaking his now aching hand as he headed down to the first row. “That brat’s not my type at all,” he muttered to himself. “Now, if it was his partner, that’d be much better. She’s pretty cute.” 

Jean smiled, imagining what Marco would have said. Drifting on the first date? How bold of him. Might be better not to come on that strong, right? Otherwise, you’re just asking for the “modesty reflex” to kick in. Trying to hide certain, especially sexual, thoughts and memories from your partner was the number one reason compatibility tests failed. 

“Alright, alright, I guess I’ll bide my time,” Jean said under his breath. 

The kid had stood as he approached, squaring himself as if he was expecting a fight. Just like they were taught in the academy, he made the first move. 

“I’m Eren Jaeger,” he declared. “Sorry about not introducing myself before.” 

“It’s fine. After all, pilots’ identities are top secret,” Jean countered, making the kid -- Eren -- twitch. He couldn’t quite fight down a smirk, earning himself a glare. 

Two glares. The girl -- Ackerman -- joined in as well, her expression positively chilling. Suddenly, Jean remembered the other reason why dating any woman in the Jaeger Program was such a bad idea. It wasn’t just the compatibility and Drifting concerns. It was also the fact that they were all absolutely brutal. 

“Anyway,” Jean continued, ignoring their ire, “with a name like that, you’re practically destined to be a pilot, huh? Tough luck, kid.”

“I don’t want to pilot because my father designed the Jaegers,” Eren replied, scowling. “He and I have the same motivation -- to kill the Kaiju and avenge Mom.” 

Jean stared in surprise. He hadn’t expected the kid to actually be related to the original architect behind the Jaeger Project -- Dr. Grisha Jaeger. It was a rarely mentioned but well-known fact that the man had all but forced the project through with relentless, obsessive dedication that stemmed from the loss of his wife in the first Kaiju attack, in San Francisco. 

“Then what are you asking me for tips for? Shouldn’t you be the one with inside know-how about the Jaegers?” Jean asked blankly. 

Eren glared, then turned away. “I haven’t talked to him since right after Mom died. No one even knows where he is now,” he said with an old bitterness in his voice. 

Next to him, the girl moved subtly to press their shoulders together, and Eren subconsciously leaned in, matching her movements as his expression softened and grew calm. 

A civilian would have taken it as a sign that they were a couple, but Jean recognized it for what it was -- Ghost-Drifting, the lingering aftereffect of the link between two close, compatible pilots. 

Scientists had always remained skeptical of its existence, but like most pilots, Jean had felt it first-hand. Passing things without looking or being prompted, moving in perfect sync, knowing where the other was even from a distance… Sometimes, he still reached out to empty air, forgetting that Marco was gone.

Jean swallowed, turning away. He left without another word, his gut churning uneasily. How could anyone possibly fill that gap? Suddenly, the very idea of a compatibility test seemed like a joke. 

\--------

The compatibility test was an unmitigated failure. 

They didn’t just lack compatibility. They were inversely compatible. They actively made each others’ problems worse. 

Jean hadn’t realized that was possible until they both hit the first Random Access Brain Impulse Trigger -- the infamous rabbit. He didn’t know anymore which one of them started it, but their memories had overlapped in the worst way. Thank god they had only being doing a prelim test, not within the actual Jaeger...

Seeing his mother/partner be torn out/lifted/ _devoured_ \---

Yeah, Jean knew now why Eren was so fiercely dedicated to killing the Kaiju. 

Swallowing heavily, Jean rubbed at his eyes. Maybe if he pressed hard enough, he could erase the images and feelings that felt like they were engraved into his brain. They hadn’t even achieved enough compatibility for real memory transfer, but the things Jean had glimpsed in their Drift’s unstable Headspace were still vivid in his mind. 

He looked up as Commander Smith entered, trailed again by Captain Levi and the girl, Mikasa Ackerman. After their disastrous performance, Jean and Eren had been told to report for another briefing, to go over the results. The briefing room was far smaller this time, and Reiner, Bertolt and their third were also absent. 

As the five of them gathered around the conference table, there were no happy faces, though the commander still looked entire calm and self-assured, and Levi maintained the same disinterested expression. Mikasa moved to Eren's side, as far from Jean as possible. They didn’t say anything, even at a whisper, instead exchanging only a look and a short gesture, which seemed to convey a wealth of meaning. 

That was real compatibility, right there, and Jean couldn’t help but wonder what he was even doing here. They didn’t need him, not really. 

“We will begin the next round of testing in three days. That should give all of you enough time to recover,” the commander said without preamble. Jean stifled a groan. Did he really appear so pathetic that the commander felt he needed days to recover? In the academy, preliminary compatibility tests had been scheduled back to back by the dozen. “It will be Kirschstein and Ackerman, Levi and Jaeger. Are there any questions?” 

With a start, Jean realized he hadn’t even considered how the other test, the one they had been waiting on, had gone. Had Mikasa and Levi proven incompatible? Drift compatibility was rare enough that your worked with what you had, but if their number of pilots was limited, it made sense to test every combination. 

Across the table, Eren glanced at Levi with blatant admiration and looked away quickly. Next to him, Mikasa appeared entirely impassive. 

It was Levi who spoke up, to the others’ surprise. 

“Having a prelim test for those two is a waste. Ackerman will work with almost anyone,” he said, though it didn’t entirely sound like a compliment, and Mikasa didn’t react at all. He shrugged irritably. “Just go straight to calibrations. But there’s no need to test me with this brat.” He jerked his thumb toward Eren. 

“Why?! Please, at least let me try!” Eren protested, slamming his hands onto the table. “Even if it’s a slim chance, we won’t know without trying!”

Levi ignored him. “I don’t need a copilot. It’s a waste,” he continued, without even glancing away from the commander. 

Jean stared in surprise. He had heard, of course, that the legendary Captain Levi had managed to pilot his Jaeger alone after his partner was incapacitated. But even if it was seen as a mark of his ability, it was largely considered a fluke. A Jaeger couldn’t be piloted alone, not really. It was an insane claim to make. 

“Nonetheless, you two will be tested for compatibility,” Erwin replied calmly. His easy acceptance, more than anything, made Jean honestly wonder if Levi’s claim might have truth to it after all. “Having a viable partner will increase your chances.” 

As Eren brightened, Jean nodded in agreement. Drift partners, working together, did more than just move the two halves of the Jaeger in sync. Their experiences, skills and even thinking ability was pooled together to create something greater than either of them alone. 

The commander and Levi shared a long look. After a moment, Levi snorted, as if conceding. “I’ll follow your orders,” he said, his expression even more displeased than before. “But I still think it’s pointless and a waste.” 

Beaming, Eren bowed deeply -- to the point that he almost caved his head in against the table. But next to him, Mikasa looked far less pleased. Jean couldn’t help but wonder why. 

Well, he supposed, he’d find out in two days. 

\-------

Reiner looked up as Jean set down his tray and dropped into the seat across from him. “How’d it go?” the other pilot asked, between bites. 

Jean sighed. “Disaster,” he replied shortly. “Next, I’m trying with Ackerman.” 

Bertolt glanced at him from behind the book he was reading, offering Jean a sympathetic smile, while Reiner continued to shovel his food, waiting for Jean to go on. Their third was nowhere to be seen, though that matched up with what Jean remembered of Leonhart from the academy -- always a lone wolf, disappearing whenever her presence wasn’t absolutely required. 

“Listen,” he said, leaning forward, “I wanted to ask you. You guys were partners before getting assigned Leonhart, right? How did you do it? Is there some trick to it? Accepting a new partner, working with them...” 

Reiner and Bertolt exchanged a long look. Reiner was the one to answer, as Bertolt ducked back behind his book. “It was different for us. I wouldn’t say it’s the same as your situation,” he said slowly. He looked not entirely comfortable with Jean’s line of questioning. 

“Are you really going to make me beg?” Jean deadpanned. 

“Look, I don’t know what to tell you,” Reiner said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m serious. A three-pilot Drift is different from a two-person one. Annie takes the third arm and some of the other combat functions. She’s not taking a hemisphere. It’s different.” 

Reiner glanced at Jean. Seeing his attentive look, he sighed and went on. 

“It’s like…” He paused, thinking. “It’s like if you had wings. You don’t move them the same way you move your arms or your legs. They don’t replace your arms and legs. They’re… something else.” 

His voice sounded wistful, but Jean didn’t notice, distracted by his own thoughts. 

“Something else,” he repeated to himself. “Of course it wouldn’t replace anything. Something like that can’t be replaced.” 

“Well, it helps that Annie is very quiet,” Bertolt said, drawing both of them back to the real world. 

“Right,” Jean said, finally turning to his food. “Thanks.” 

He had a lot to think about. Hopefully, the test in two days wouldn’t be the same sort of disaster as what happened with Eren, and then...

\-------

Jean hadn’t understood what Bertolt had meant about Annie being quiet until the Drift with Mikasa began. 

It wasn’t precisely accurate to say he couldn’t sense her at all within the Drift. But her presence was… blank. Impersonal. Like a stand-in for the real thing. They were Drifting, but he couldn’t tell a single thing about her, except for her cool professionalism and readiness to fight. 

“Neural handshake successful,” the operator announced. “The Drift is a success.”

Jean wasn’t sure how you could call that a success. He tried to imagine going into battle like this, but the very thought of it turned his stomach. The memory loomed large in his mind -- the Kaiju bursting from the waves, its great maw open, its claws reaching...

With an effort, he forced himself away from the impulse. Don’t chase the rabbit, let it go, he repeated to himself, the way all pilots were taught in the academy. 

Sparing a glance at his partner, he saw Mikasa watching him. Her expression was calm, but her posture carried a faint tenseness, as if she was ready to jump in at any moment. He hadn’t felt that. Was she testing him? Was she respecting his own abilities? Jean couldn’t tell. 

He couldn’t expect her to replace Marco, to be the same center of calm and drive. But he couldn’t pilot like this. He knew instinctively that he wouldn’t be able to go into battle against a Kaiju like this. 

Jean released a long breath as the operator announced the end of the compatibility trial and the system began to shut down. 

Somehow, his shoulders were still tense. 

That tension didn’t ease even as he stripped off the pilot suit and stepped out of the changing rooms. Mikasa was waiting for him. Her eyes flickered over him quickly, and Jean knew she had noticed his unease. 

“Come on,” she said shortly, gesturing for him to follow her. 

They walked in silence until Mikasa stopped suddenly, in front of what Jean finally recognized as the Kwoon Combat Room. 

He smirked. “Now you’re talking.” 

With so few pilots at the Shatterdome, it was no surprise that the Combat Room was deserted. Jean didn’t hesitate to strip off his jacket and kick off his boots. Silently, Mikasa did the same. Simultaneously, they settled into a combat stance. At the very least, they were trained in the same place, in the same method. 

Impatient to get started, Jean moved first. At the last moment, Mikasa snapped into action, blocking his attack and ducking in to counterstrike. She tumbled him so quickly and cleanly that Jean’s head was left spinning. It took him a moment to regain his bearings, blinking furiously, and roll to his feet. 

Prodigy. Right. 

“One-nothing,” Mikasa intoned as he readied himself again. 

“What was that?” Jean demanded, narrowing his eyes. 

“Standard counterattack, pattern B3--” Mikasa began blandly. 

“Not that,” Jean snapped, though he didn’t remember learning that one. “In the Drift! How did you do that? I thought it wasn’t possible to hide things. Trying is supposed to just make it worse.” 

Mikasa studied him silently for a moment, then said slowly, “By trying to hide a memory or thought, you focus on it more strongly. However, by clearing your mind and entering a meditative state, it is possible to ensure that no thought rises to the surface during Drifting.” 

Unwillingly, Jean nodded. The nature of the Drift wasn’t that every thought and memory was shared between the participants. Rather, any memory could be shared at any moment, so nothing was guaranteed to remain secret. And the more you wanted to hide it, the more it would draw attention. 

“These meditative techniques were taught at the academy for the last few years,” Mikasa told him. “The goal was to reduce friction and rejection between pilots and raise the average compatibility level.”

Reiner had mentioned that. It still didn’t sit right with Jean.

“Wait,” he protested, “but it wasn’t like that with Jaeger. You two were at the academy together, weren’t you?” 

If possible, Mikasa looked even more blank. “Not everyone could utilize these techniques,” she admitted, reaching up to tug nervously at the red scarf she wore. “In fact, very few succeeded in obtaining any real level of proficiency.” 

Prodigy. Of course. 

“Well, consider me one of those failures,” Jean said. “Or better yet, consider me an inflexible old relic. The point is, you’re going to have to cut that out. I can’t pilot like that. I need my partner to be honest with me!” He needed a partner, period, not a shadow that he couldn’t see or hear or touch. “You’re not like that with Jaeger, are you?” 

“Eren is different,” Mikasa muttered. Her lips pursed unhappily, and Jean wondered suddenly if he had been mistaken after all. Was their closeness actually a sign of their relationship and not compatibility? The two were not always the same. Mikasa continued, her voice hard, “Like that, we might be incompatible. That’s unacceptable. I won’t fail the tests.” 

“And I’m saying--” Jean launched forward suddenly, “I can’t pilot like that!” 

Mikasa reacted instantly, twisting around his attack and using his own momentum to send him to stumbling away, past her. 

“Two-nothing,” she said automatically. 

Jean took a moment to catch his breath before turning to face her again. 

“Why do you want to pilot with me so much?” he asked. Trying for a leering smirk, he added, “Did you fall for me at first sight?” 

“No,” Mikasa answered without a moment of hesitation. It was kind of painful to his ego. “I don’t want Eren to pilot.”

“That’s just weird. Why would you not want to pilot with him? You seem… close,” Jean protested. 

Mikasa frowned, like he’d said something very stupid. “I don’t want Eren to pilot,” she repeated, “at all. I know he’ll pass the second compatibility test, but Captain Levi is on standby. Everyone else will sortie before him. That way, Eren will have the least chance of--” 

As she was speaking, Jean attacked again, hoping to catch her off guard. Looking faintly annoyed, Mikasa grappled his strike, forcing him to overextend, and punched him firmly in the ribs. 

“--seeing combat,” she finished, releasing Jean. “Three-nothing.”

“Does he know about all this?” Jean said, wincing. “‘Cause if we’re talking about the same guy, Jaeger’s not gonna be happy with that. At all.” His life goal was to kill as many Kaiju as possible. If anything, his intentions were the complete opposite of Mikasa’s. 

Mikasa glared. It was terrifying, but also a bit cute. She finally looked her age, like any other teenage refusing to admit their grand plans were to be thwarted by reality. 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect your boyfriend,” Jean told her, smiling though his side still twinged. “Especially if he’s kind of an idiot--”

“Eren isn’t my boyfriend,” Mikasa said, averting her eyes and tugging at her scarf again. “Eren is… To me, he’s… I have to protect him. No matter what.” 

Watching her for a moment, Jean sighed. He gestured, reminding her to return to her stance. 

“So what’s your story?” he asked, swinging at her again. Mikasa deflected his attack and returned with one of her own, which Jean dodged, making a sweep at her feet. As she backed away, he said, “You’re not dating, and I’d say you’re not related. What is he to you, really?”

“Eren is… Eren,” Mikasa replied, moving in with a kick that Jean just barely blocked. He winced, feeling the force behind it, but refused to budge. 

“Right,” he muttered, pushing her away in an attempt to knock her off balance. Unfortunately, Mikasa was as steady as a rock. “So… how did you two meet?” 

Mikasa’s brow furrowed as she traded blows with Jean, clearly distracted. “...It was in San Francisco,” she said finally, and that was all Jean needed to hear to know where that story was going. “We both lost our families to Trespasser. After it passed through... we were left stranded for days, before it was finally killed, before relief reached us...” 

She closed her eyes for a moment, as Jean watched silently. The short glimpse he had gotten of Eren’s memories was enough to instill a deep, animalistic fear in him. If she had actually been there, he couldn’t begin to imagine what she must have felt. The first Kaiju attack was still spoken of only in hushed tones. 

He saw the instance in which her mood shifted, just in time to block the frankly brutal kick she aimed at his ribs. 

“I gave up,” she bit out, the anger on her features directed at only herself. “I didn’t want to live. But Eren made me keep fighting. He promised we’d be family. He... Because of him, I...”

She couldn’t find the words to explain. 

Instead, she lashed out again, making Jean wince as he felt his arms bruising even further. 

“I’ll protect Eren, no matter what,” Mikasa repeated, determination shining in her eyes. 

Jean smirked, the good kind of adrenaline burning in his veins as he met her fierce gaze. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he muttered. The punch he threw was easily blocked, but he in turn deflected her backhand strike. They exchanged blows evenly, Mikasa holding back enough to just push Jean to the limit of his ability. 

But now, he was starting to see how she moved, what style she favored, what her true nature was like -- strong, straightforward, but simultaneous graceful and beautiful in the same way as a well-honed blade. 

“It’ll work,” he decided. “Don’t worry. We can Drift, for real.” 

“You can’t be sure of that,” Mikasa replied, catching his next strike and twisting him into a hold. “And if there are fluctuations, there will be too many questions. It’ll raise doubts. I won’t let you ruin our chances.”

“At least let me try!” Jean shot back, his lips quirking at the words. “Even if it’s a slim chance, we won’t know without trying!”

Mikasa glared as she realized what he was doing -- parroting back the words Eren had said to Levi in the second briefing. Huffing, she jerked him forward to plant a knee solidly in his stomach. 

“Four-nothing,” she told him. Picking up her jacket and boots, she added, “Meet me in the simulation center.” 

Even hunched over, Jean managed a triumphant fist pump. 

\-----------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to make it clear that Jean's rationalizations of things are not always correct. The explanations he comes up with for some odd things are based on his limited, incomplete knowledge of the situation.
> 
> Also, Levi is really hard :/
> 
> Trivia: The original codename of the Jaegers was the Titan Project, and that was the name Doctor Jaeger wanted to keep. He always had rather mixed feelings about his creations ultimately being named after him. 
> 
> Trespasser, the first Kaiju, “traveled thirty five miles and destroyed three cities in six days.” The first city was San Francisco. The last was Oakland. (The one in the middle is supposed to be Sacramento, but let’s ignore that.) Apparently, Trespasser went on an overland loop. The ways of the Kaiju are mysterious.


	3. Commander

Part III: Commander

\--------

All the pilots were gathered again for the next briefing. This time, the commander was followed into the room not only by Levi, but also by a blonde boy about Eren and Mikasa’s age. Judging by the nervous smile he shot the two, they were friends. 

It turned out Mikasa had been right.

“The new pilot assignments will be Kirschstein and Ackerman on Gipsy Danger, Levi and Jaeger on Coyote Tango,” the commander announced. “The deployment order will be Crimson Typhoon, Gipsy Danger and Coyote Tango on standby.”

Jean had expected Eren to either resent being put on standby or to cheer at the possibility of piloting with a legend, but the teenager looked strangely subdued, shooting Levi unreadable looks, which the captain completely ignored. 

If nothing else, Mikasa looked pleased, no matter how much she tried to hide it by burying her face in her scarf. Catching her gaze, Jean rolled his eyes, which earned him a narrow-eyed look. Her devotion to that thing was kind of creepy, given that she shot the scarf a mournful glance every time she had to take it off to suit up. 

“I had hoped to begin our true mission once pilot assignments were determined,” Commander Smith continued, masterfully ignoring the by-play. His words instantly caught everyone’s attention. “However, we have unfortunately encountered some unexpected delays.”

Jean waved as if raising his arm in class. “What do you mean, our true mission?” he said. 

Erwin smiled. It was kind of scary in its sheer benevolence. “To explain that, I would like to introduce Armin Arlert, one of our K-scientists,” he said, gesturing to the young man beside him. “His area of expertise is abstract mathematics, as applied to the space-time continuum. In other words, he has been researching the nature and properties of the Breach.” 

“H-hello, everyone,” Armin greeted them nervously, stepping forward. Taking a deep breath, he activated the holographic projectors, which displayed several images that were unmistakably of the Breach -- the fissure at the bottom of the ocean, from which Kaiju emerged. “Um, as you know, there has been a lot of debate over what the Breach is and how it functions.” 

Tapping at the podium, he had the projector switch to the next slide -- a 3D representation of what looked like a tunnel. 

“This is the Breach, rendered in a more visual way,” Armin explained. “Put simply, it is a passage that links two points, regardless of the distance between them. In this case, the Breach connects our world to another dimension, from where the Kaiju originate. It uses energy from the Earth’s tectonic activity to create a stable connection that allows the Kaiju to pass through the tunnel itself, the so-called throat of the portal. ” 

Jean huffed. No matter how sci-fi it sounded, this was commonly accepted knowledge. As if sensing his lack of interest, Armin flushed slightly. Surreptitiously, Mikasa kicked Jean under the table. 

“Right,” Armin muttered. Gathering himself, he continued. “However, it has recently been determined that the Breach is not always open. The Kaiju’s staggered arrival is not due to happenstance. Rather, it is precisely timed, functioning on a mathematic progression as the Breach stabilizes. At first, Kaiju appeared every 24 weeks, approximately two-three times a year. The rate has steadily escalated, to every 12 weeks, then every 4 weeks last year, with a total of 14 attacks.”

Everyone was paying attention now. The room was tense with anticipation as Armin spoke. 

“The Sydney attack took place only a week after the previous one,” Armin reminded them. “The rate of Kaiju appearances is going to continue to increase, until there are only days and then hours between. Eventually, the Breach will become completely stable, and Kaiju will be able to pass through constantly, without limit.” 

It was an absolutely chilling prospect. An endless army of Kaiju. In other words, the apocalypse. 

“That’s insane! Isn’t there anything we can do?!” Reiner demanded, surging to his feet. Next to him, his partner was pale, same as Jean, while Mikasa and Annie just managed to maintain their usual calm expressions. It seemed as if Eren, like the commander and Levi, already knew what was coming, his only reaction to clench his fists tightly, his expression dark and determined. 

“We’re going to stop it,” Erwin announced, his calm, strong voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. “We’re going to end the Kaiju threat once and for all. We will close the Breach.”

For a moment, everyone was silent. “...How?” Jean asked finally. “How are we going to do that? It’s not like they didn’t try nuking it before. What else can we do?” 

Armin was the one who answered. “Those attempts were unsuccessful because the Breach was closed,” he said quietly. “But with the new algorithms, it should be possible to determine when the Breach will open again, precisely enough to dispatch Jaegers there. While the Breach is open, a nuclear weapon can be inserted into it. The detonation should be enough to collapse the throat completely.” 

The thought of ending the Kaiju threat for real was almost too good to be true. It had to be too good to be true. 

“That’s only if your calculations are correct,” Jean said, refusing to let himself get caught up in wishful thinking. “The Breach is on the ocean floor. Even Jaegers can’t withstand that pressure for long. It’s going to have to be almost exact.” 

Armin nodded. “That’s true. But every Kaiju attack so far has fallen within the algorithm, especially accounting for their inconsistent travel times and distances. The Breach will open. I’m sure of it. And even if we miss the first opening, it will give us enough information for a more precise second attempt.” 

“When the Breach opens, another Kaiju will emerge, so we will dispatch a team,” Erwin took over. “Striker Eureka, as the most agile, will carry the nuclear payload, accompanied by another Jaeger, while the last two remain on standby. Unfortunately, the mission will need to be postponed until I return with Strike Eureka.” 

Jean wondered how long that would take. Surely even the commander had his limits when it came to dealing with the sort of political chaos that had overtaken Sydney and Striker Eureka. 

“I hope to return within the next few days,” Erwin said, smiling as if he had read their minds. “Until then, Captain Levi will be in command.” 

It wasn’t until the meeting adjourned that Jean realized how close that would be cutting it to Armin’s one week deadline for the next Kaiju attack. 

\--------

Mikasa had taken the opportunity to run non-stop simulations. On the one hand, their compatibility and general understanding of each other had increased by leaps and bounds. On the other, Jean hadn’t felt this wrung out since Hell Week at the academy. 

Groaning pitifully, he fell onto the bench in the simulation center’s lobby. The light was too bright. His clothes were too scratchy. He felt tingly all over. Jean groaned again, ignoring Mikasa’s quiet sigh. 

There was a loud rumble and a clank, repeated twice -- the sound of the vending machine dispensing two prizes. A moment later, Mikasa’s shadow fell over his face as she held out a can. 

“Here, drink this,” she said. 

Jean accepted it blearily. The cold metal numbed his hand, but it was a familiar, welcome feeling. Sitting up, he popped the can open and took a sip. The taste was familiar too. 

“...Why did you get this one?”

Mikasa glanced at him, faint surprise in her expression. “Isn't it the one you like?” she asked. 

“Not exactly,” Jean replied, smiling strangely. Tipping his head back, he stared up at the ceiling. “You saw it in the Drift, didn’t you?” 

She nodded. “Your partner always got this one, so I thought...” she trailed off uncertainly. 

“It tastes terrible,” Jean said. “But he’d read somewhere that it helped ease mental strain. So he always insisted on getting it for me. And I always refused to drink it.” And then, they had always laughed together. 

Silence settled across the simulation center lobby. The main monitor displayed their last results -- average, neither particularly good nor outstandingly bad. Still, the LOCCENT operator on duty had helpfully compiled their accumulated results to show a definite upward trend, and even as they were, Jean was confident that they wouldn’t falter in battle. 

Their Drift was different from the one he’d had before, but that was alright. He wasn’t the same as he had been back then either. 

Lifting the can in a mock toast, Jean downed it in one go. It tasted disgusting, and he couldn’t help gagging a little as he swallowed the last of it. 

Mikasa smiled faintly, glancing at him, and Jean knew without a doubt that she was thinking about the way Eren had gagged the first time he tried alcohol, helpfully snuck in by their academy classmates on graduation night. On a dare, he had taken a great mouthful of the liquor, only to promptly spit it out again. Unfortunately, that was Mikasa’s last clear memory of the night...

Jean shook his head, trying desperately not to think about the other half of the memory he had accidentally gotten from Mikasa -- the morning after, and the way she’d... Like a true rabbit, the more he tried not to think of it, the stronger the image became. 

Drifting really was the number one relationship killer for pilots. Drift-zoned, they called it. He dearly hoped Mikasa hadn’t seen his own first wild night of drinking, or the morning that followed. 

Come to think of it... for a while now, he had been the only one to know of that shameful escapade. The others, his old classmates, had been among the pilots killed in the escalating Kaiju attacks. 

Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all, sharing these memories between them. 

He could do without all the Eren bits though. Didn’t Mikasa ever think about anything else? 

Forcefully shaking the thought away, Jean said, “Do you think the commander will be back by tomorrow?” 

Mikasa shrugged. “There’s no telling. If he got caught up in reporting to the UN, he might be gone for weeks,” she said. 

Jean nodded. He had glimpsed a few reports of rioting, as news of the Wall breach got out and the implications sank in. There were bound to be many, many questions that needed answering. 

“But tomorrow is the deadline, right?” he muttered. “Man, what if he misses it and another Kaiju appears?” 

“The commander will use it as leverage to get his way and return more quickly,” Mikasa said decisively, and Jean couldn’t help agreeing. Commander Smith was that kind of terrifying man. “In his absence, Captain Levi will give the orders.” 

Of course, that meant the legendary pilot was even less likely to sortie, together with his new partner, which was entirely in line with Mikasa’s goals. 

“We should train more, while we still have time,” Mikasa decided, standing and tossing her can neatly into the trash. 

“What? Come on!” Jean protested. “Aren’t you tired?” 

“I’m fine,” Mikasa said simply. 

“Well, I’m not that young and spry anymore,” Jean shot back. It pained him to admit it, but he had a feeling that letting Mikasa drag him in for more training would pain him even more. 

Jean prayed for a distraction, any distraction at all. 

The simulation center doors slid open. 

Salvation came in the unlikely form of Captain Levi. 

His cool, emotionless gaze swept over the two of them, and he said, “Ackerman, Kirschstein, clear out. Rest up. Tomorrow, we’re on high alert.”

It the first time Jaeger pilots were on high alert. Because for the first time, they would know to expect a Kaiju attack. It was going to be a long day. 

\--------

The next day passed quietly, without a single ripple in the sensors. 

\---------

“I don’t understand, where did I go wrong…?” 

“Armin? Are you here?” Eren called out, stepping into the dark laboratory, lit only by the glow of the holographic projectors. Complex formulas floated in the air above the worktable, casting strange shadows across the single occupant’s face.

Armin looked up in surprise as Eren cued the lights. The dark circles under his eyes didn’t look much better even as the lamps flickered on. He ran a hand through his already messy hair and sighed quietly. 

“Hi, Eren,” Armin muttered quietly. “What are you doing here so late?”

“Looking for you,” Eren said bluntly, casting a suspicious look at the formulas and graphs displayed across the many monitors. “It’s late. You should rest. Come on, let’s go.”

Shaking his head, Armin rubbed at his eyes. “I have to figure out what I did wrong. It’s useless if I can’t get this right.” 

“You will,” Eren told him with full confidence, “tomorrow. Or, well, later today, after getting some sleep.”

“How can you be so sure?” Armin wondered dully. “I said the Kaiju would attack, but there was nothing. Nothing at all! The entire plan is riding on my predictions, and I just... How can you still believe that I’ll figure it out?” 

“It’s easy. You’re my friend. I know you,” Eren said stubbornly. Seeing Armin's still uncertain expression, he huffed. “Remember when we were kids? You were always talking about other worlds, quantum-this, space-time that.” 

“You didn’t understand a word I said, did you?” Armin muttered. 

“Not a word,” Eren agreed shamelessly. “But it sounded amazing. It made me want to see those other worlds! And after... you kept looking for answers. Instead of just charging in blind like me, you tried to find a way to get rid of the Kaiju forever. And you're doing it. Just a little more, and we'll be free of those monsters.”

“You’re the one who insisted I go into research,” Armin pointed out, but some of the tension had slowly seeped out of his posture. 

Eren waved away his words. “It’d be a waste otherwise,” he said. “You’re the only one I can trust to figure this out. You’ve gotten this far. Don’t go giving up just because one lousy Kaiju refuses to act like it should. Maybe it got lost. The ocean’s a big place. It’ll probably turn up in Chile or something in a couple days.”

His dismissive remark, though obviously put on for show, made Armin smile. 

However, his expression slowly turned thoughtful. “I wonder,” Armin said slowly, “what the commander was thinking. Before he left, he said something like... he wasn’t sure if there would be an attack. But he never doubted my calculations either...” 

For a moment, Eren stared at him in surprise. “Come to think of it, Captain Levi didn’t seem surprised that we had nothing happen. Well, it’s hard to tell with him, but still...” 

They exchanged a look, both thinking the same thing -- was there something more going on here? And if so, what could it be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deeply apologize for making Armin non-combat personnel, but there is a limit on Jaegers, so it's not like he could be a pilot. Someone has to do the heavy mental lifting, you know?


	4. Jeager

Part IV: Jaeger

\-------

Sighing, Eren stared pensively at the results screen displayed in the simulation center’s lobby. It was honestly disheartening -- his averages were about the same as they had been in the academy, passing but not spectacular, and there was, as always, entirely too much fluctuation. 

It had deeply worried his instructors that once in awhile, seemingly without any warning, his numbers would just plummet. And then, they would rebound in the other direction, with too much mental integration instead. 

Eren knew what the problem was. Inevitably, it would creep up on him -- the dreaded rabbit. The memory of Trespasser’s attack, his mother being-- 

It would pull him in, making him lock up, lost in his own Headspace, which had almost gotten him kicked out at the start of training. Eren had tried to deal with it by bulling his way through, focusing all of his anger and hatred to link with the systems and move. 

But that was a stopgap measure at best. In that high-emotion state, the feedback from the system would be too much for him in a real battle, and beyond that he would end up acting on instinct alone, which just wasn’t enough for a real pilot. 

He hated to admit it, but Eren suspected he had only made it through the later stages of the academy thanks to Mikasa and her determination to be his partner. Their compatibility wasn’t very high, but with her ability to bring nothing into the Drift, she had been able to work with him. Her unwavering calm and focus had let her moderate his inconsistency so that it wasn’t such a major, obvious liability. 

Even with his weaknesses, she had been the best of their year, of the decade. How good would she have been with a real partner? Sighing again, Eren thought of her steadily increasing compatibility and responses during simulations with Jean. They weren’t a very advantageous match either, but they were actually able to move improve and advance. 

Unlike Eren. 

Mikasa had told him not to worry and to take it easy, before she had bidden him goodnight and departed with her new partner. Despite her well-meaning words, Eren hadn’t headed to his room. Instead, he had gone right back to struggling through the simulations. 

The results were, again, disheartening. 

When the door of the simulation center opened, Eren honestly expected it to be Mikasa, sensing that he had ignored her and coming to drag him off to sleep. 

Instead, Levi stood in the doorway, looking like he had never seen anything as stupid as Eren in that moment. 

“Sir!” Eren scrambled to his feet, snapping out a salute. Levi’s eyes narrowed, if possible. Eren could feel himself begin to sweat nervously. 

“Do you realize that the LOCCEN operator on duty is automatically notified when the simulators are running?” Levi asked him rhetorically. “I was very interested to hear him mention that isn’t it amazing how you’d been at it for fourteen hours straight.” His gaze was terrifyingly judging. 

“W-we had training sessions longer than that at the academy!” Eren defended himself, though he wasn’t precisely sure why he needed to defend himself at all. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Probably. 

“You’re not a trainee anymore,” Levi told him. “You’re a pilot. You have a responsibility to remain in at least the most basic combat-ready state. You could be called on to sortie at any time.” 

Tired and frustrated, Eren couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “I doubt it.” 

Levi’s glare made him flinch and duck his head in shame. Surprisingly, no scathing remarks followed. 

“I just...” Eren tried to explain in the ensuing silence. “I want to destroy them all. I can’t forgive them. I know Mikasa will do better with that guy -- he’s got experience, they Drift well -- but I still... I want to kill them with my own two hands! I want to make sure they never threaten our world again!” 

His eyes snapped to meet Levi’s cool, considering gaze.

“I know,” Levi said calmly. “I saw that in the Drift. I saw your reasons too. And the problem you’re having.” Eren drooped again. Of course the captain had noticed. It was too much to hope he hadn’t. 

Eren stiffened, staring down at his hands, shaking in clenched fists at his sides. Was this it? Had he blown his one chance?

“...I’m sorry,” Eren muttered. “A copilot is supposed to increase your chances, but at this rate having to compensate for me might end up just slowing you down. But I’ll fix it, I swear! Please, let me train a little longer!”

“Erwin didn’t mean that in the way you think,” Levi said, cryptically. Instead of elaborating, he went on, “And it’s pointless to keep doing what you’ve been doing. How many hours did you waste in the simulator already? You’re not going to get any better like that. Your pigheaded stubbornness isn’t enough.” 

With every word, Eren felt like he was being crushed further and further. The silence stretched on, and Eren swore he could feel Levi’s heavy gaze boring into him. 

Then, Levi’s boots clicked against the floor as he strode away without another word. This was it. It was over...

“Well? What are you waiting for? Come on,” Levi snapped. 

But his voice wasn’t coming from the direction of the exit. Eren looked up in surprise, his eyes widening as he saw that the captain stood beside the entrance into the simulator, already attaching a Pons set onto his head. 

“Wipe that stupid look off your face, dumbass,” Levi barked, his expression becoming even more irritated. “I think it’s a pointless waste, but Erwin ordered me to partner with you. At the very least, I’m going to make sure you’re competent, even if I have to beat it into you myself.”

“Sir?” Eren squeaked out, though he would deny it to his dying day. He wasn’t sure he understood what was happening at all, but he was already scrambling to follow Levi. 

“I told you, there’s no point doing it alone,” Levi said grouchily, turning away and beginning to queue up a simulation. “You’re not going to figure it out by yourself.” He sounded like he was speaking from experience. 

“Sir! Thank you, sir!” Eren enthused, almost tripping over himself as he tried to simultaneous salute and adjust his own Pons System. 

Levi stifled a sigh, already regretting his decision. 

\------------

Caught up in his excitement, Eren hadn’t paid attention to what Levi entered into the simulator or the fact that it took him a suspiciously long time. 

As the system booted up, the dummy piloting controls locking into place, Eren could see that the cockpit setup was still that of Coyote Tango. But the scenery that appeared out of the static was not the Tokyo shoreline Eren had been practicing at. 

He recognized it instantly. It was San Francisco, as it had not been in over a decade. A strangled sound emerged from Eren’s throat. 

The simulated Jaeger was standing just off Fisherman’s Wharf and the Marina District, past even the Miracle Mile. Eren could see Alcatraz almost directly in front of them and the Golden Gate Bridge, still intact, to the left. 

Eren whipped around, the Jaeger following his movements, as he tried to get a glimpse of the city at his back. His house... his house had been...

“How... How can...” He couldn’t find the words. 

“Some group made a 3D reconstruction of the city as a commemorative project for the ten year anniversary of the attack,” Levi said, his usually harsh voice subdued. “I had one of the techs pull it up.” His trained gaze darted to the sensors, and his tone hardened again. “Get it together, Jaeger. We have company.” 

The Jaeger’s alarms blared as the gargantuan form of Trespasser burst from the water at the mouth of the bay, looking large over the Golden Gate Bridge. One of its massive claws came crashing down, just as it had that day. 

Static ran across the length of the bridge, the rendering of the city not meant to support that level of deviation from its default state. But Eren could imagine it all too clearly -- the cables snapping, the road giving way, cars toppling into the bay. Eren hadn’t seen it himself, only on the videos that were shown almost constantly for months to come across all channels. 

No, he had been beside the ruins of his house, collapsed in the 7.1 earthquake that heralded Trespasser’s approach. He had been trying to dig his mother out of the rubble, when the few people who had stopped to help suddenly began to scream, pointing at something in the distance. 

“Hey! Pull it together, you shitty brat!” Levi snapped. “The enemy is approaching. We’re going to engage.” 

He had to use his voice as the Drift between them remained smooth and silent. It had slid into place seamlessly, more so than even Mikasa had managed. But if anything, it was too clean and empty. There was only Eren, caught in his memories. 

The enemy. The enemy was approaching. Eren had to focus on that. He had to fight. Fight. Fight. 

“...How?” he forced himself to say, to focus on something beyond his own memories. “There wasn’t enough combat data gathered on Trespasser to run a combat simulation.” He’d tried. He had wanted even the hollow satisfaction of destroying an image of the thing that had ruined his life. 

Levi was watching him closely, his gaze missing nothing. “The data’s not from Trespasser. I had it use Knifehead as the combat base, with Trespasser as the skin. You should be familiar with it, since it’s the last Kaiju Gipsy Danger fought. You must have practiced against it back when you thought you’d be piloting Gipsy Danger with your friend.” 

“...Yeah. I know it,” Eren muttered. They’d run simulations of Gipsy Danger’s every sortie, comparing what it had done to what they would have tried, looking to understand how the Jaeger moved, what its limits were. He and Mikasa had done everything they could to prepare for what they thought would be their first deployment. 

But Mikasa wasn’t here now. It was just him. 

Even though she had held back so much to make sure their compatibility remained within necessary boundaries, Mikasa had always been there in the Drift with him. Her presence was faint and silent, but she had always been beside him, over his shoulder, just like in all other aspects of his life -- the only constant since the Kaiju appeared, aside from his burning, consuming rage. 

She had always stood ready to nail him across the back of the head if he got too caught up, in his drive, in his anger, in his memories. She’d weathered his moods, his up and downs. 

Now, it was just him. 

“I know this thing,” Eren repeated to himself, baring his teeth. Trespasser raised its axe-shaped head, its great maw opening to reveal the burning furnace within. _It opened its jaws and his mother’s still struggling body--_

Eren screamed a battle cry, and the Jaeger burst into motion. 

The slight strain in Levi’s expression was overshadowed by his annoyance. “Use the mortar cannons, dipshit!” he barked, but Eren was past the point of listening. 

It was all Levi could do to keep up his half of the Jaeger’s controls, to keep it moving smoothly. Almost unwillingly, he acknowledged that Mikasa was even more skilled than he had thought, if she could maintain function under this kind of strain. 

Of course, she probably hadn’t gone out of her way to create a situation where Eren would lose control of himself. 

In what felt like bare moments, they were too close to use long range weapons. The Kaiju had spotted them, roaring its own challenge and ducking its head as it prepared to ram them with its massive horn. Like Knifehead outside Anchorage, it aimed for the core.

Levi had to force himself to only follow Eren’s lead, to not wrestle control away from him. Coyote Tango was lightly armored, as far as Jaegers went. One direct hit was all it would take to end the simulation. Then, he could give the brat a good lecture and they would load it up again, hopefully for a more controlled attempt. 

As they entered close quarters, Levi braced himself for the ghostly feedback of their demise. 

To stop himself from being pulled along by Eren’s memories, Levi had kept himself distant within the Drift, but that sort of detachment was a double edged sword. It left him unable to read his partner’s impulses as well as a true Drift would have allowed. 

So he was taken completely by surprise when, at the last moment, Coyote Tango suddenly pivoted, ducking away from Trespasser’s lunge. Even in his berserker charge, Eren’s combat instincts kicked in at least that much. 

Before the Kaiju could recover from its missed lunge, Coyote Tango was already turning, one massive elbow slamming down on the monster’s neck, while the other arm was raised to allow its VP-1 Energy Caster to extend. 

The cannon charged just in time. Its white blast tore into the Kaiju’s shell, leaving a gaping vibrant blue wound. 

With Eren’s attention singularly focused, Levi had taken back control of the other arm and set its cannon to charge. It fired as the first went into cooldown, digging deeper into the same wound. 

Levi had gone over Gipsy Danger’s last battle many times. His reasons had been different from Eren’s; he had simply felt that something wasn’t right. It had been little more than intuition, but there was one thing that Levi came to believe -- Knifehead had targeted the weakspots of the Jaeger. It had been smart, much smarter than any Kaiju before it. 

Trespasser, which should have been a simple Category I, now had the same properties. 

Eren had acted out Gipsy Danger’s actions almost exactly. And now... it was going to go underwater. 

For a moment, Levi almost thought he had spoken aloud, as Eren seemed to react to his thought. Coyote Tango’s leg lashed out, catching Trespasser right between its armored jaw and torso, in the vulnerable neck, just as it tried to submerge. 

But no, it wasn’t that Eren was reacting to Levi’s thoughts. The Drift was still too distant for that. It was simply that Eren had gone over the same battle and shared the same realization in the same instance. 

They were on the same wavelength. 

Eren didn’t hesitate, neither pausing to watch for the Kaiju’s next more nor allowing it a moment to recover. Coyote Tango lunged at the massive beast, Levi using one arm to grab its armored jaw and twist it into a disadvantageous position as Eren jammed the other’s cannon deep into the wound and fired, once, twice, three times. 

The Kaiju’s bulk shuddered with each staggered blast, but no matter how much it writhed, Levi kept it pinned, Coyote Tango steady above it, until the final shot burst through Trespassers other side, its blue blood spreading through the bay despite the Energy Caster’s cauterizing properties. 

Levi huffed as the Jaeger AI announced the end of the simulation. “Tch. You overdid it, you shitty brat,” he said. “When you rip something a new shithole, you’re not supposed to do it all the way through.”

Eren’s shoulders shook with his labored breathing, but he managed a laugh between heavy gasps for air. “Sorry, sir,” he chuckled. “I’ll be sure to... only rip one new hole... per Kaiju.” 

\----------

One thing Eren had always been able to count on was that he could outlast anyone, through sheer stubbornness if nothing else. He could take anything anyone would dish out, whether his fellow trainees or his instructors, and then do it twice over just because. 

Except, apparently, Levi. 

When the captain finally called an end to their training marathon, it was all Eren could do to stumble out of the simulation room and collapse on the lobby bench. The world was spinning, and he couldn’t tell up from down anymore. He also kind of thought he could smell the quiet hum of the vending machine and taste the too-bright lights overhead. 

Wait. That wasn’t right. 

Eren groaned pitifully. He felt simultaneously puke-your-guts-out drunk and hungover, except without any of the good parts that came before either state. Nearby, Levi scoffed quietly. The vending machine beeped, then rumbled once, and again. 

Assuming that even Levi would not buy himself two drinks and that one would be for him, Eren gingerly sat up. However, the moment of silence stretched out too long. Levi made no move to retrieve the drinks he had bought. Instead, as Eren glanced at him in confusion, the captain suddenly turned on his heel and strode out of the simulation center.

Taken completely by surprise, Eren could only stare until the doors closed behind Levi, at which point he finally regained his senses and scrambled to his feet. Moving to follow the captain, he paused in front of the vending machine, where Levi had been standing. Some prosaic habit made him bend down to grab the two cans that had been dispensed. 

A bright spot of red against the dull grey floor caught his eye. When Eren toed it, his boot left a shallow smear away from the small splatter. 

It was blood. 

Before he even knew what he was doing, Eren found himself running out of the simulation center. It was half-instinct, half-common sense to check the restroom first. 

Levi looked up, his expression deeply annoyed, as Eren burst into the men’s room. He must have looked absolutely ridiculous, flinging open the door so dramatically, two cans clumsily held in one hand, his face caught between worry and determination. 

“Need to take a shit that badly?” Levi asked archly. He had been bent over one of the sinks, washing his face. His cravat hung undone, but otherwise the captain looked entirely fine. 

Eren flushed, unsure how to reply, his eyes darting anywhere but his superior. “You left so suddenly... I mean, you left the drinks, sir, so I--” 

As he finally glanced back at Levi, Eren trailed off and stared. Something cold began to gather in his gut. 

It took only one look at his stunned, unsettled expression for Levi to understand what had happened. He reached up, wiping lightly at his nose. His hand came away bloody. 

With a short curse, Levi turned back to the sink. The water ran pink as he washed off the blood. Through the mirror, Levi glared at Eren, who was still staring in shock. “What’s the matter, you useless brat? Never seen a nosebleed before?” 

This time, Eren didn’t react to his taunting. “...Captain, why? Why are you experiencing neural overload? We were just training, weren’t we?!” 

Worry made his voice rise, and by the end, he was shouting. Weren’t simulators supposed to have failsafes for this kind of thing? The captain had only been practicing for his sake. Had Eren done something wrong? 

“Quit yelling,” Levi muttered, turning off the water and drying his hands. His movements were completely calm and controlled, as if nothing strange had happened at all. “There’s no point in getting so worked up. It’s already stopped anyway.” 

Somehow, his blase attitude only made Eren angry and even more worried. “You need to go to the infirmary? Or should I get a doctor? We need to at least tell the commander!” 

“I told you, it’s pointless. Erwin already knows anyway,” Levi said, cutting through Eren’s frantic babbling. 

He tried to glare the younger pilot into submission, but something he saw in Eren’s determined, still-worried expression made him sigh. 

“You’re not going to leave this alone, are you?” Levi muttered. He didn’t want to explain, but Eren did take it to Erwin -- and he would, the stubborn brat -- the commander wouldn’t hesitate to spill everything, probably as part of some terribly manipulative plan. Reluctantly, Levi admitted, “It’s because of built up strain from piloting, something about the neural load causing weakening in certain areas of the brain, or some shit like that.” 

“Weakening?” Eren repeated dumbly.

“It’s why I had to be taken off active duty. Apparently, my overload threshold is now much lower than before, so even just one battle might take me over the limit,” Levi said snappishly, sounding almost offended by his body’s weakness. He grimaced. “Even just a little training, and I’m like this.” 

Unfortunately, the mental load of piloting was difficult to predict or estimate. Going into battle would have been like playing Russian Roulette -- his chances of coming out fine would have been pretty good, but always with some uncertainty. And Erwin had felt that risk was too great to chance on anything except a last resort, or the one, final battle. 

Which was another reason Levi didn’t want Erwin to know about this. 

It was true that a nosebleed was a sign of mental overload, but it was a fairly minor one. Most trainees experienced it at least once during academy, especially when they were tested for endurance and overload threshold. Eren had driven himself to that point several times, usually when Mikasa hadn’t been around to stop him. 

Eren had only really overreacted because it was so hard to imagine the legendary pilot experiencing the same problems, from something as minor as simulation training. After all, didn’t Levi have a very high threshold? He’d even been able to pilot alone in the Tokyo battle. 

Then, suddenly, it clicked. “That’s what the commander meant about increasing your chances, isn’t it?” Eren realized. “He meant that piloting with a partner will make the neural load much lower, and you’ll have a higher chance of surviving the strain of the Drift!” 

Levi glared, trying to convey how little desire he had to discuss this topic. 

Eren didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in his own thoughts. “But the Drift system is supposed to be safe now,” he muttered, half to himself. “That’s why the two-pilot setup was created. How could you end up being put under the sort of long-term, consistent strain you’d need to weaken your threshold? To do that, but not kill you, it would take months or even years...” 

“You’re a bit smarter than you look,” Levi commented, though his tone was more annoyed than complimentary. When Eren glared, he admitted dully, “Coyote Tango is a Mark-1, one of the oldest Jaegers. When it was first launched, the technology behind the Jaegers hadn’t been perfected yet, especially the Drift and the neural linkups. Don’t worry, it’s been upgraded to modern standards, so you’re not in any danger.” 

“I’m not worried about that!” Eren snapped. But his anger seemed to drain out of him, and he looked away, deflating. “I knew Coyote Tango was rushed and the survival of the pilots wasn’t a priority,” he said. “It didn’t even have an escape pod in its original construction, but I didn’t know it was that bad. ...I’m sorry. It’s because of my father’s shoddy work that your life is in danger.” 

“A pilot’s life is always in danger,” Levi said dismissively. “If you’re not ready to die, you have no business piloting a Jaeger.” 

That was certainly true. The reality of those words had been hammered in over the past few years, as Jaeger after Jaeger fell to the Kaiju. But...

Taking Eren’s hesitation as a sign that their conversation was over, Levi said, “Don’t tell anyone about this. That’s an order. If you do -- and I’ll know -- I’ll rip you a new asshole, you understand?” 

Without waiting for Eren’s reply, he stalked out of the restroom. Eren watched him go, the strange uneasy feeling solidifying in his gut. 

A Drift partner was as close as family, Eren had said to Jean back then. Losing someone that close to you was a pain Eren wouldn’t wish on anyone, and one he dearly hoped to never experience again.

Even if he and Levi weren’t true partners...

In the mirror, Eren met his own determined gaze. “It’s not pointless,” he said quietly, even though there was no one to hear him. “I swear... I won’t let you down, Captain. As your partner, I’ll make sure you come back.” 

\----------

The K-Science lab, which had previously been Armin’s exclusive haunting ground, had been thoroughly transformed. Several additions had been made, most of them involving Kaiju parts in large tanks. A female scientist was fawning over them, crooning dottingly as she carefully adjusted the chemical balance and settings. 

She looked up as Levi entered the lab, grinning widely and waving. “Hey, long time no see, Levi! What brings you down here?” she asked cheerfully. The sleeve of her coat slipped to reveal colorful tattoos all along her arm, depicting what appeared to be Kaiju. 

“Erwin told me to talk to you,” Levi said, looking around without much interest. The commander’s message had been worded to look like a friendly, personable superior nagging at his standoffish subordinate to socialize more, but it’s real meaning had been that there was something Levi needed to be briefed on. 

Which was the only reason he had ventured into the Kaiju freakshow the science lab had been transformed into. 

The woman grinned wildly. “Oh-ho? Well, I’ll be happy to tell you all about my trip,” she said with entirely too much excitement. Glancing over her shoulder, she called out, “Christa!” 

There was only one other person in the room -- a tiny girl with golden hair. Bent over one of the consoles, she took several moments to respond. 

“Um, yes, Doctor Hange?” she finally stammered, flushing, as if just realizing she was the one being addressed. 

“You don’t have to call me Doctor! Just Hange is fine,” the woman assured her. “I’ll finish setting things up. Meanwhile, why don’t you go check on our special ‘guest,’ okay?” 

Christa looked at her uncertainly for a moment, but seeing that Hange was serious, she brightened. Hange and Levi watched her depart, waiting for the doors to shut before resuming their conversation. 

“Guest?” Levi asked dubiously. 

Hange smiled strangely. “We’ve acquired the most amazing specimen. I’ll introduce you later,” she promised, though Levi appeared less than enthused. Unlike Hange, he didn't feel like being introduced to a Kaiju liver or something was anything to get excited about. Snapping her fingers, Hange added, “Oh, that reminds me..."

Turning away, she rummaged in a box sitting on one of the consoles. Finally, with a triumphant exclamation, she pulled out a small bottle of pills and tossed it to Levi. 

He caught it deftly and glanced at it with a great deal of suspicion. “You don’t actually expect me to take these, do you?” he asked. “Don’t try to make me one of your experiments. I’m not your guinea pig, shitty glasses.” 

“Don’t be like that!” Hange cajoled, laughing. “And those’ve been tested already. That’s the new neural stabilizer we’ve been developing.” Her grin softened. “We finally got the dosage worked out. With those, you won’t need to worry about the strain anymore. They should help with the side effects too, like those headaches you’ve been having.” 

Levi ignored her taunting -- he had never admitted to those headaches, no matter how many physicals Erwin sent him to. 

“I can’t take this,” he told her instead, frowning. “It’ll interfere with Drifting too much. I wouldn't be able to pilot.” 

“Well, yeah, that’s kind of half the point,” Hange agreed. “Those are for after. I just didn’t want to forget to pass them on to you.” 

Levi glanced down at the bottle again. Like Erwin’s insistence on giving him a partner, he thought it was a pointless gesture. But with Hange watching, he had no choice but to pocket the pills. 

Hange nodded approvingly. “Good,” she said. “Now, here’s what happened, and I’m gonna warn you, it’ll blow your mind..."

\-------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was writing this, I stopped to look up how deep the SF Bay is. Turns out it's deepest under the Golden Gate Bridge, at about 372 feet. Trespasser is only 302 feet tall. How does it rise up so much that it can crash into the bridge? The Kaiju are truly mysterious. 
> 
> Actually, Coyote Tango wouldn’t be able to stand there at all, at least not above water, but eeeeeeh. Who cares, right? Trespasser apparently teleported to Sacramento and then back, so whatever.
> 
> And, yes, I cut out the faulty radiation shielding and the cancer. I always kind of thought it came out of nowhere. We know that Drifting can cause nosebleeds, among other things (see: Newt), so I think it makes more sense to just tie the two together.


	5. Follower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An entire chapter of exposition and last-minute character introductions. I hope you're ready for words-words-words.

Part V: Follower

The commander’s return was marked by another pilots’ briefing. This time, however, there were two new faces -- Striker Eureka and its pilots had finally arrived as well. 

“Wait, so you’re partnering with this guy now? What about Eren?” the girl, Sasha Blause, asked Mikasa between nibbling on a stale ration. Instead of coming to Jean’s defense, like a good partner should have, Mikasa just shrugged. 

“Bet Eren was happy about that,” Sasha’s partner, Connie Springer, muttered. Again, Mikasa shrugged. Eren huffed and refused to comment. Like Jean with Reiner and Bertolt, Eren and Mikasa had been at the academy together with Sasha and Connie, so they shared a certain sense of camaraderie beyond simply being pilots together. 

“Nice intercept on that Kaiju,” Reiner complimented them, Bertolt nodding in agreement. “It’s a good thing you were there. I doubt we couldn’t deployed all the way out there before most of Sydney got leveled.” 

“It was pretty slick, right?” Connie boasted good-naturedly. But his expression quickly became more serious. “So much for the Anti-Kaiju Wall, huh?”

“Do you know what they’re going to do now?” Jean asked. “Are they going to restart the Jaeger Program? The news is so censored, I can’t tell what’s going on at all.” 

“It’s just crazy over there,” Sasha muttered, fiddling with her half-eaten ration bar. “Everyone’s really panicking. They had to keep us under guard at the base, not just ‘cause of the cultists, but because people were literally throwing themselves at us, begging us not to leave, you know?” 

“I don’t think anyone knows what’ll happen, at this point,” Connie admitted. “They’ve got a huge investigation going into the Wall, and how it could fail this badly. The commander had us follow him to the hearings -- I think he didn’t want to let us out of his sight, in case he couldn't get us back -- and some of the stuff coming to light is just... yeah.” 

Even Annie drifted closer to listen to Connie’s account. 

“You know how the Wall was funded by the Reiss family?” Connie began, his voice dropping secretively. An ugly, angry look crossed his usually cheerful face. “It turns out that they got a lot of their money from trading in Kaiju parts.” 

Harvesting Kaiju organs was highly illegal, not least because of how toxic much of the Kaiju biology was to Earth lifeforms. However, the black market for them was immense and highly profitable, mostly due to all kinds of ridiculous rumors about what the... medicinal properties of Kaiju organs. 

Jean and Mikasa exchanged a look as Sasha nudged her partner consolingly. Through Drifting with Mikasa, Jean knew that this revelation would have been particularly infuriating to Striker Eureka’s pilots -- Connie’s family had died because of Kaiju Blue poisoning and Sasha’s had barely pulled through when their ranch lands became completely barren due to the same. 

“It gets better,” Connie continued, darkly. “Apparently, that part everybody in power knew and just kept hush-hush. The Reiss family rep even tried to spin it like it was a good thing, using the Kaiju to defend against the Kaiju... And then it turned out they have ties to the Kaiju Cult.” 

“What?!” Eren demanded, jumping to his feet. His sudden yell made the others flinch, and he quailed a little under Jean’s annoyed glare. 

“So, what? They built the Wall wrong on purpose?” Jean asked, rubbing at the ear that had been facing Eren. 

Connie shook his head. “I don’t know. They only just found out because someone in the Reiss family testified. Now they're running a full-scale investigation, freezing all their funds, everything. It’s a total mess.”

“And because they’re so busy focusing on this, they haven’t even considered the real problem of what to do about the Kaiju,” Armin added unexpectedly.

He had been hanging back, not wanting to draw attention to himself and the fact that the claims he had made so boldly at the last meeting had completely failed to pan out, but now he spoke up, and his words had an ominous, depressing implication. No one was quite sure what to say to that. 

Everything seemed to be going to hell, faster and faster. Jean just hoped the commander had some plan. 

\--------

The silence was broken by the briefing room doors opening to admit the commander, trailed as always by Levi and now also a woman with an amazing array of tattoos along both arms.

“Alright, everyone, we have a lot to cover today, so let’s begin,” the commander announced. He had probably delayed his entrance just to give them time to gossip -- and so that he would have less to explain to them. Sweeping his gaze over them benevolently, Erwin called out, “Armin Arlert!” 

“Y-yes!” Armin stammered, jumping to his feet. 

“According to your calculations, when will the Breach open next?” the commander asked. 

“Ah, well, that would be... in two days,” Armin said. “But, sir, there was no attack while you were away. My calculations must have been wrong somewhere.”

“I would not be so sure of that,” Erwin said calmly.

“Are you saying that the Kaiju came through the Breach, but didn’t attack for some reason?” Armin asked, his eyes narrowing. “They’ve never displayed any behavior to suggest that.” 

Erwin smiled and gestured to the woman beside him. “This is our Kaiju expert, Zoe Hange. She has made certain discoveries that utterly change our understanding of the Kaiju.” 

“Hey, guys!” Hange waved cheerfully. Stepping up to the podium, she activated the projectors. “So, for a long time, our understanding of the Kaiju has been very limited. Part of that was because Kaiju samples are just so hard to come by, since Kaiju remains dissolve very quickly after death. Part of it was because the Kaiju are just so alien. They’re literally from another world!” 

Her demeanor was nothing short of perky, which was unsettling enough on its own. The manic gleam in her eye made it worse. 

“And on top of that, the Kaiju have all been so different!” Hange continued. As she tapped on the controls, the projections showed images of Kaiju, which Jean recognized from historical lessons at the academy. “Looking back on the earliest Kaiju attacks, their behavior was in many ways quite different, though certain experts like to dismiss those aberrations and blame them on unreliable witnesses.”

Her tone made it clear what she thought of those so-called experts. 

“I mean, take Karloff, the first Kaiju to be defeated by a Jaeger!” she said, pulling up an image of the thin, grey-skinned monster. “Even with the scant information that could be gathered back then, it’s clear Karloff had several organs that have not been found in a single Kaiju since then! Like this here -- this pouch looks almost like a womb, doesn’t it? What was it for? What purpose did it serve?” 

Hange zoomed in and pointed at something in a diagram of the Kaiju’s internal structure. To Jean, it looked vaguely like a blob and not much else. Beside him, Reiner and Bertholt both tensed. If Jean remembered correctly, that been the Kaiju to orphan them both, when it had attacked Vancouver. 

“And think of Trespasser, the first Kaiju! There are reports of it actively picking up and eating humans, something no other Kaiju showed interest in!” Hange continued, gesturing enthusiastically. Jean flinched, but Eren, on Mikasa’s other side, went painfully still. “What was the reason behind that? Did it want to see what we’re like? Was there something different about its biology? If only it hadn’t been so completely destroyed by the nuclear blast!” 

“Get to the point, shitty glasses,” Levi growled, shooting the woman a distinctly nasty look. 

“Um, right,” Hange muttered, thrown off by having her ramble interrupted. “Well, once Kaiju attacks increased in frequency, it became easier to get samples. We’ve studied them extensively and become able to identify their structure much better. By comparing tissue from several different Kaiju, we found something really strange -- fundamentally, all the Kaiju are the same. 

“I don’t mean that they’re just similar lifeforms,” she hastened to assure them. “It’s much more than that. I mean that they’re exactly the same. In Earth terms, they all have the same DNA.”

“Maybe that’s just how things are in the other world?” Jean suggested. “Maybe all lifeforms there are like that.” 

Hange waved away that line of thought. “There’s more than that! All of you know that the Kaiju have gotten better and better at fighting our Jaegers. Why would every subsequent Kaiju be smarter and better prepared than the last? Why would they know the Jaegers’ weakspots?” 

Jean was the one to tense up now, and he almost missed the way Mikasa’s eyes flickered to his face. 

“My hypothesis is simple -- the Kaiju have some way of communicating amongst themselves, even across the Breach,” Hange declared. “And thanks to finally obtaining a very rare and special specimen, we’ve been able to confirm it! The Kaiju are in constant contact with each other -- a hivemind!”

“Wait,” Jean called out, “that’s great and all, but that doesn’t explain why the Kaiju didn’t attack like Arlert said it would. I doubt getting owned in Sydney would’ve changed their minds.” Mikasa looked ready to kick him in the shins again, but Armin himself nodded in agreement. 

Hange glanced at the commander, as if asking his permission. The silence that hung over the briefing room for a long moment wasn’t one of uncertainty or confusion. It wasn’t that there was no answer to Jean’s question. It was that the answer was one he probably didn’t want to know. 

“No, the Kaiju alone could not have known to change their pattern,” Erwin said finally, his voice even but grave. “However, the reasoning behind that action is straightforward and clear -- to either throw off our calculations and make us abandon the planned attack on the Breach, or to create a line of defense at the Breach itself, should we persist with our plan.” 

“That’s completely backwards! You’re making things up to make reality fit your conclusions,” Jean protested. 

“The Kaiju alone could not have known to take those actions,” the commander repeated. “But the Kaiju have not been acting alone.” 

Reiner lept to his feet, his hands slamming onto the table, his chair skittering back. “What?!” he roared, the intensity of his reaction shocking, given his usually calm, steady demeanor. 

“You-you really believe that?” Bertolt said uncertainly next to him. “That can’t possibly be right!” 

They were the only ones who could muster up even that much. Eren’s expression had gone terrifyingly blank. Mikasa sat utterly frozen, but her hand on Eren’s arm had tightened until the knuckles were completely white. Striker Eureka’s pilots could only exchange a shocked, uncertain look. Jean felt strangely numb, like the commander’s words were not reaching him at all. 

“...You mean the cult,” Armin finally said, his voice low but clear in the still room. 

“That’s right,” Erwin said. His words cut through the tension in the room -- Reiner dropped back into his seat, now listening intently; Eren jerked, his hands fisting as his expression grew wrathful. 

“But how is that possible?” Connie asked. “I mean, I know they’re crazy about the Kaiju, but that’s not gonna stop them from getting killed just like everyone else. It’s not like the Kaiju can talk, right?” 

“No, but apparently they can be Drifted with,” Hange replied, still smiling, though the expression did not hold any happiness now. “Oh yeah,” she continued, almost admiring, “they’re definitely hardcore, you have to give them that. They managed to obtain several samples of Kaiju brain matter and created an entire setup to initiate a Drift with the Kaiju hivemind.” 

The idea was so preposterous, so insane, that everyone could only stare in shock. 

“Of course, the neural overload was too great, and everyone who attempted died sooner or later, probably from seizures and damage to their brain tissues,” Hange continued. She shrugged. “I’m sure they thought it was holy sacrifice, or something like that, but it’s a shame. Drift goes two ways, and we could’ve learned so much...” 

Jean could see Bertolt cringing at her flippant description of the cultists’ fate. As pilots, they understood better than anyone what neural overload would be like and just what a miserable death it would be. 

The feeling of your mind caving in from a weight too great for it to handle-- _The weight of his Jaeger, lopsided and crushing as he threw everything into forcing it to move, move, move--_

“Did you find out from that Reiss turncoat? I didn’t hear anything like this at the hearings,” Connie said, though his voice sounded distant.

“There was no time to cover everything,” Erwin replied. “And I do not want this information spread beyond the people gathered here today.” 

“You think there’s a leak? Here? Or at the UN?” Armin asked, putting the pieces together. “Of course, the cultists would have had to find out about the plan somehow and pass the information along to whoever performed the actual Drift..."

“Our source couldn’t confirm, but we believe that to be the case,” the commander said. “Rest assured that we will track them down and bring them to justice. They have committed crimes against all of humanity.” 

Their crime wasn’t just leaking confidential information to the rest of their cult -- it was allowing the Kaiju to know about humanity’s secrets. It was giving the Kaiju an edge against the Jaegers. 

As Mikasa laid a steady hand on his arm, Jean realized he was shaking. 

“That is why this information must remain between us,” the commander was saying. “You are pilots, who have risked your lives against the Kaiju and shared your minds through the Drift. Or you have led the way to discovering the truth of the Kaiju threat, despite great opposition to your ideas. All of you hold my full confidence.”

They were the last pilots left -- everyone else was gone, fallen to the Kaiju. All because of some insane zealots and their suicidal delusions.

“However,” Erwin said strongly, drawing Jean out of his spiraling, furious thoughts, “we still have a mission to complete -- our last mission, to destroy the Breach.” 

He had their full attention. Forcing away their doubts, their shock and their anger, the pilots focused on the most important undertaking of the Jaeger Program. 

“The operation will commence at the next scheduled event, according to Armin Arlert’s calculations,” the commander said. “A Kaiju will likely be waiting for us there, and another will emerge from the Breach. As per the original plan, Striker Eureka will be tasked with delivering the nuclear bomb into the Breach. To clear the way, Coyote Tango will deploy first. Striker Eureka will follow after a short delay.” 

“Two minutes,” Levi muttered. That was all he expected to need to take care of the loose Kaiju. 

“Striker Eureka will follow after three minutes,” Erwin acknowledged. “Coyote Tango will provide support against the second potential Kaiju threat, as necessary, while Crimson Typhoon and Gipsy Danger will remain at the Shatterdome on standby.” 

Jean was the one to hold Mikasa back this time. Her eyes darted to Eren, but when their gazes met, her friend shook his head sharply, and Mikasa reluctantly backed down. Her body remained tense under Jean’s steadying hand, and her glare was just short of mutinous.

The commander waited for a moment, but there were no protests or questions. All of them understood their duty, even if they had their doubts. 

Erwin nodded, looking at each of them in turn. 

“Rest up. Get ready. In two days, we begin the final mission. Dismissed!” 

\------------

The commander hung back for a moment, as if waiting to see if any of them would approach him. Armin was the one who stood and made his way down to the front of the briefing room. His gaze was serious, but unreadable, and something in his demeanor made Jean think that he wasn’t just going to discuss his own calculations. 

The commander’s smile was secretive as he, Armin and Hange formed a tight circle, Levi standing guard, and Jean distantly wondered what else the man was hiding from them. 

He didn’t think he could take another revelation. Not after what he had just heard. Suddenly, it was all rushing back -- the shock and the anger. 

Connie and Sasha stood first from among the pilots. “Don’t overthink it, you guys,” Connie advised, glancing over their tense group. “We’ve got a job to do. Everything else can come after. Rest up, okay?” 

“I’m going to eat so much,” Sasha muttered to herself. “A seven course meal. Ten course. Three courses of dessert.” 

“Sounds good. Let’s break out that ham we’ve been saving. No time like the present, right?” Connie agreed. He sighed. “We better review the deep sea operation procedures too.” 

“The water pressure’s gonna cut our speed so much,” Sasha complained half-heartedly. 

“It’ll be fine,” her partner assured her, and himself. They shared a strained smile and a comforting nudge as they headed out of the briefing room. 

Mikasa stood suddenly, but instead of following them out, she turned to Eren, her expression caught between worry and anger. He matched her glare, standing so they were face to face, nose to nose. 

When Mikasa looked ready to protest -- probably demand that he take himself off deployment -- Eren cut her off. “I’m going,” he said firmly. “This is it. What I wished for ever since Trespasser. I’m not going to back down. I’m going to do this, Mikasa, and you can’t stop me.” 

Under his even gaze, Mikasa swallowed and glanced away. “Not even if I break your arm? Or your legs?” she muttered. 

“Not even then,” Eren assured her. “Something like that isn’t going to stop me. Nothing will. I’ve made up my mind. I’m going, and then I’m coming back. I’ll make sure the captain and I return.” 

“Promise me,” Mikasa said quietly. 

“I promise I won’t give up, no matter what,” Eren replied. It wasn’t what she wanted, not really, but Mikasa nodded slowly. Leaning in, Eren bumped his forehead against hers and said quietly, “Trust me.”

Mikasa huffed, then smiled softly. 

As they spoke, Jean had stood slowly, trying not to draw their attention, and silently headed out of the briefing room. He paused in the hallway, just beyond the door, and breathed deeply in, then out. 

He wasn’t angry at Mikasa, or even Eren. If anything, he was glad neither had noticed him leaving. Mikasa was his partner now, but they were still only comrades, soldiers fighting side by side for the same cause. They didn’t share the same bond Jean had once had with--

“Aaargh!” With an inarticulate scream of rage, Jean slammed his fist against the wall. It didn’t feel like nearly enough. Drawing back his hand, he swung again, and again. 

“Stop!” 

Small hands wrapped around his wrist, holding back his arm. Glancing back over his shoulder, Jean froze in shock. 

A goddess. 

There was no other way to describe the being at looked up at him in concern. Golden hair, wide blue eyes, sweet, delicate features -- the girl was angelically beautiful. Her hands were soft and tiny against his wrist. She was even shorter than Annie.

“Are you alright?” she asked, worry in her clear voice. 

“Uh... yeah,” Jean said dumbly. He tried to clear his head, but his thoughts had ended up in complete disarray. Running a hand over his face, he repeated, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just...” 

He was so angry. 

Without realizing it, Jean had clenched his hands into fists and gritted his teeth again, anger overtaking his expression. The girl watched him with concern, but she seemed uncertain what to do or say. 

Both of them glanced back as the briefing room doors slid open again. The ones to emerge were Crimson Typhoon’s pilots, Reiner stopping to look at the two of them in surprise, Bertolt hovering over his shoulder, while Annie slipped past them both to continue on her way. 

Reiner’s gaze was instantly drawn to Jean’s bleeding hand and the dent he had managed to make in thick, reinforced wall. But before he could say anything, his eyes drifted to the girl next to Jean, and he jerked in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” he blurted out, as the girl looked back, her expression uncertain and without any recognition. 

“I... I’m waiting for Doctor Hange,” she said nervously, fidgeting under his stare. 

Bertolt stepped forward to dispel the uneasy atmosphere, drawing Reiner back with a hand on his shoulder. “She’s still inside with the commander, but they should be wrapping up,” he said kindly. “Why don’t you go get her now?” 

The girl smiled at him, cute enough to make Jean fight down a mild blush, and hurried away, leaving the three pilots alone in the hallway. 

“So that’s your type?” Jean said, elbowing his old classmate. His smile was strained. “Nice. You’ve got good taste.” 

“...Um, yeah,” Reiner muttered, finally tearing his eyes away from the doors she had disappeared through as Bertolt nudged him. His expression shifted to worry again, his eyes darting to Jean’s hand. “Are you going to be alright? Should we get a medic?” 

Jean flexed his fingers experimentally. Pain shot through his hand, but at least it wasn’t numb, and he was pretty sure nothing was broken. 

“I’ll be fine,” he repeated again, trying to make himself believe it. “I just... I can’t believe that someone would... would knowingly choose to help the Kaiju. What kind of human being would do that?”

Sharp pain shot up his arm as he clenched his fists, but Jean didn’t care. 

“Because of them..." he went on, “because of those scum... How many good people died because they helped the Kaiju learn to fight the Jaegers? Marco,” his voice broke at the memory of his partner, “and even... We’re the last of our year, aren’t we? Everyone else died fighting.” 

Jean laughed bitterly, as Reiner watched, frozen and uncertain. Hovering behind him, Bertolt had looked away. 

“I didn’t even go to their funerals,” Jean muttered. He had run away from the Jaeger Program by then, trying to deny ever being part of it, to pretend that part of his life had never been. And before, that he had missed Marco’s funeral, still in a coma during the small service. 

He hadn’t gone to see the grave after he woke up. 

Tilting his head back, Jean sighed. “After this mission,” he said, turning back to his old friends, “let’s go visit their graves. We’ll tell them ourselves that it’s over. They didn’t die in vain.”

For a long moment, Reiner stared back at him, his expression unreadable.

“Yeah. After this, it’ll all be over,” he said finally. 

There was something strange in his voice -- Relief? Regret? Jean couldn’t tell. It had been a long time since he and Reiner had attempted to Drift, during the academy compatibility tests. 

And even then, he hadn’t felt much from him, had he? Watching Crimson Typhoon’s pilots depart, Jean felt something shift in the back of his mind, just out of reach. 

Come to think of it, the commander had said he trusted them because they had all Drifted. But, wasn’t there a way to hide things even in the Drift? He must have known that, so why did he put it that way?... 

\------------

“I’m sorry for bothering you like this, Doctor Hange,” Christa said quietly as she trailed after the Kaiju researcher. 

“It’s fine, we were done anyway,” Hange replied easily, swiping her card through the electronic lock into the Shatterdome’s restricted areas. Pushing up her glasses, she leaned in to allow for a retina scan. As the computer acknowledged her clearance, she added, “It’s my fault for not getting you set up to go by yourself. I guess we all just got too wrapped up in everything.” 

“No, I understand. Of course you can’t trust me that blindly,” Christa said, following Hange through the thick, multilayered blast doors. “I’m just grateful to you for letting me see her at all, for helping us, for believing me in the first place. I’m really so grateful...” 

She teared up a little, reaching up to surreptitiously wipe at her eyes. Her gestures and expression were vulnerable and charming, and it was easy to see how her testimony had convinced and galvanized even the most distrustful of politicians. 

“Nah, we’re the ones who are grateful to you both,” Hange said, laughing. “You backed up a lot of our theories and told us some stuff we hadn’t even imagined possible. I’m sure the commander was happy to have all that information. And of course, I’m super excited too!” 

Christa smiled back shyly, her demeanor brightening with every step, until they finally drew to a stop in front of another door. Darting forward, Christa knocked, the sound echoing down the hall, strong and excited. 

Hange, who had been about to burst in unannounced, smiled and shrugged. “Could’ve caught her changing,” she teased, not so much a warning as a temptation, causing Christa to blush faintly. 

The heavy door swung open, revealing the living quarters beyond and a tall woman with messy dark hair. Her guarded, cynical expression melted as she laid eyes on Christa. “Hey there,” she greeted with a smile, stepping aside to let Christa enter. 

She didn’t extend the same warmth to Hange, and her eyes followed the scientist with something like wariness as Hange slipped in after Christa. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, crossing her arms and subconsciously drifting over to stand beside Christa, as if presenting a unified front. 

“I just wanted to see you, Ymir,” Christa said, blushing faintly. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” 

Ymir smiled again, relaxing just a little. “Nah, I’m fine,” she replied. Smirking, she added, “Just seeing you is all I need, angel.”

“Are you sure?” Christa insisted, looking up at Ymir with clear worry. “Is the food okay? Do you want to go out? Maybe for a walk…”

Her concerns were waved away by Ymir. 

“What about your head? Any pain or dizziness?” Hange broke in, moving closer to peer into her eyes. Ymir tensed, but bore her scrutiny stoically. Humming to herself, Hange noted with some happiness that the red bloodshot had faded from her whites and the irises looked better as well. “Any nosebleeds? Shaking? Fever? No hallucinations, I hope,” she continued. 

Ymir finally looked away. “I’m fine,” she said gruffly. “It’s gotten better. I still have headaches sometimes, but they’re not as bad, and I can’t... hear it anymore.”

Hange nodded to herself. “Sounds like the neural stabilizer is working well. Keep taking the current dosage for the rest of the week, then go to the next stage,” she instructed Ymir. “Start in on the supplements too. We’ll have you back in tip-top shape in no time!” 

Winking, Hange slapped Ymir on the back, which the girl endured with surprising tolerance. Watching them, Christa sighed quietly in relief. 

“Thank you again,” she said. "From both of us."

Ymir shrugged, but she didn't dispute Christa's words. “...I could try to figure out who it is,” she offered, her own form of thanking the scientist. “I couldn’t identify them in the Drift, but if we meet in person, I might be able to tell.”

Hange shook her head. “It’s fine. The commander’s got it covered. Besides, it’s much cleaner and simpler if everyone just believes that every single person to attempt Drifting with Kaiju has died.”

There were many reasons for it -- an extra deterrent to keep anyone else from getting ideas, their own unwillingness to deal with additional complications in an already tangled situation, and even an honest desire to protect the two girls. 

“This way, you can both live your lives as you wish,” Hange said kindly. “Just leave the past behind. Start over, be happy..." Her smile became distinctly suggestive, making Christa blush. “Anyway, I’m going to head out, get back to my research. Lots to do! I’ll leave you two to have fun, alone, together..."

“Is it really okay?” Christa couldn’t help but wonder. 

“It’s fine. You can make your own way back, and I’ll have the access roster updated to include you,” Hange waved away her concerns. “Enjoy~”

Cackling under her breath, she ducked out of the room, the door slamming shut and locking again behind her as Christa and Ymir were left alone. Privacy was only an illusion -- neither had any doubt that there cameras and microphones in the room, but it still felt suddenly far more intimate with Hange gone. 

“Just like old times,” Ymir joked to break the silence, “huh, Historia?”

Christa’s smile faltered a little. “It’s probably better if you call me Christa now,” she said quietly. “I need to get used to answering to that name.” 

“You shouldn’t have to,” Ymir muttered. 

“It’s alright.” 

“It’s not!” Ymir snapped. “You shouldn’t have to give up your name, who you are... I’m sorry. It’s because of me that you threw away your entire life..."

“It’s alright, Ymir,” Christa repeated. Reaching out, she gently grasped her friend’s hand. “I was glad to throw away the name Historia Reiss. I couldn’t stay with them any longer, not when I understood everything they had done and would do. And..."

No matter how many times Christa smiled at her, Ymir’s breath always caught at the sight. 

“I’m the one who should thank you. You were my only friend in that place. I couldn’t let you die,” Christa explained. 

“Even if it means making a deal with that military asshole? He’s manipulating you, using you like a pawn,” Ymir gritten out.

“They saved your life,” Christa said softly. “You were dying. And they protected us from my family and the cult. He has his own agenda, that’s true, but so does everyone. At least his cause is righteous.” 

Ymir snorted. “Don’t... don’t do all this for my sake,” she said. “I only got close to you for my own selfish reasons. I’m not..."

“I’m doing this for myself,” Christa told her, smiling. “This is all my selfish wish. Will you stick with me, even so?” Reaching up, she let her hands cup Ymir’s face, caressing the warm, freckled skin. 

“Yeah,” Ymir said. Her hands rested against Christa’s, and she turned her face to press a kiss to one of the soft palms. 

They stood like that for a long time, simply happy to be together. 

\------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hange's examples of Kaiju and many of her comments are not chosen at random (by me; it's a little hard to tell how much she knows or suspects). So, let's just say there is a particular significance to the aberrations in the behavior of those Kaiju.


	6. Warrior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll be honest -- I only skimmed through the manga once, and I don’t remember a single thing about BRA. They are a huge dark spot to me.

Part VI: Warrior

“Coyote Tango is enroute, proceeding as planned,” the LOCCEN tech reported. “Striker Eureka has been loaded, preparing for takeoff.” 

Tension was thick in the air in the Shatterdome command center as what could very well be their final operation commenced. Only Erwin, the commander himself, appeared utterly composed. 

“Gipsy Danger and Crimson Typhoon?” he asked. 

“Both equipped and on standby,” the tech said. 

Although he knew exactly how long it had been, Erwin checked the clock marking time since Coyote Tango’s departure. “As promised, we’re giving you a three-minute headstart, Levi, Jaeger,” the commander said, bringing up the connection to Coyote Tango. “Striker Eureka will be following now.” 

The four pilots acknowledged, not only Levi but all of them surprisingly calm. Even the previously jittery Sasha and rookie Eren responded evenly, having found their center in the face of imminent combat. 

Striker Eureka had just taken off, when an alarm blared suddenly, sending the techs scurrying. “Commander! Kaiju detected!” one called out. “Incoming... here, in Hong Kong!” 

“It’s past the ten mile mark! Sensors are down, we’ve got no data on it!”

“Deploy Crimson Typhoon and Gipsy Danger,” Erwin’s calm order cut through the chaos.

“Sir, what about Striker Eureka?” 

“It will continue its mission. Have the carriers stay on course.” Erwin’s eyes narrowed as he followed the rapidly approaching Kaiju’s path on the display. Even for him, it was still hard to think of the Kaiju as anything but wild animals, and he struggled against that impression for a moment as something tugged at his thoughts. If they were intelligent, if they knew... “Tell them to ascend, now! Get away from the water!” 

Erwin’s barked command came just a little too late. 

The Kaiju -- a massive, almost gorilla-like beast -- leapt out of the sea right below the Jaeger and its transports. Although the Kaiju only just went high enough to grasp at Striker Eureka’s legs, its weight and momentum was more than enough to drag the helicopters down and send them careening wildly. 

A moment of panic, and the helicopters were gone, leaving only explosions and a rain of shrapnel, but Erwin had no time to worry about their fate. Striker Eureka plummeted into the sea, the Kaiju dragging it down into the thankfully shallow waters. The fall wasn’t enough to do more than momentarily jar the Jaeger’s systems, and the pilots, both chosen for their ability to react quickly, were already demanding any information on the Kaiju. 

“It’s a Category IV,” Hange judged quickly, going by the data coming in from the Jaeger’s own sensors and what the Shatterdome could glean otherwise. 

Striker Eureka had managed to kick free of the Kaiju and stood, its torso rising above the water. It look around, sensors sweeping the area, but the Kaiju had disappeared back under the surface, a remarkable feat, given its size and mass. 

“It’s big,” Hange continued to report, her eyes darting across replaying shots gathered in the few frantic moments the Kaiju had been visible, “and its skin is thicker than average. Watch out for those spikes on its hands. It can probably swing hard enough to puncture your armor.”

“Don’t let it damage the nuke,” Erwin sharply reminded the pilots. 

“There’s something weird about the organ on its back,” Hange muttered. “We don’t have records of anything like it.” 

“So keep our distance?” Connie muttered. It went against his principles as a Jaeger pilot, but Striker Eureka had a special mission. Crimson Typhoon and Gipsy Danger were already deploying. It would be better to let them handle the Kaiju, with a two on one advantage, while Striker Eureka was loaded onto another transport and continued on to the Breach. 

“How far out are the other two? How quickly can you arrange another transport to pick up Striker Eureka?” the commander snapped out questions to the techs. 

“Crimson Typhoon’s been deployed! It’s on its way! Gipsy Danger is deploying!” 

“We can’t load in the middle of battle! The harness locking mechanism needs a stationary target!” 

Quickly assessing the situation, Erwin said, “Striker Eureka, retreat toward the Shatterdome. Leave the intercept to Crimson Typhoon and Gipsy Danger. Have the helicopters ready to deploy as soon as it’s out of the Kaiju’s range.” 

Unfortunately, that was the wrong choice. As Striker Eureka began to retreat, the Kaiju finally surfaced. Instead of following the Jaeger, it hunched over, and the mysterious organ on its back opened and began to glow. 

“It’s gathering energy,” Hange muttered, her eyes darting over the readouts. “Generating a charge, looks like a powerful electromagnetic field..." The pieces clicked together, and she yelled, “It’s using an EMP! Get--”

The techs were already scrambling to activate the protocols for such a situation -- the possibility of an EMP had been foreseen as a potential problem, though it had been expected to come from a natural phenomenon, not from the Kaiju themselves. 

However, her words were cut off by the pulse bursting forth from the Kaiju, engulfing Striker Eureka before it could react. 

For several seconds, the command center was completely blind, all sensors going dark as the EMP swept over the sea and across Hong Kong. Fortunately, this Shatterdome -- the first ever constructed -- had been built with every possible contingency in mind. 

LOCCEN technicians scrambled to restore or find new sensors and data streams, and the screens quickly filled again with information. 

“Long-range sensors are down! We’ve only got satellite now!” 

“Striker Eureka is completely dark! We can’t establish contact!” 

“Crimson Typhoon here,” Reiner reported in. “We’re still operational, but a lot of our combat systems are down. Annie’s got almost nothing. We’ll try to reroute.” 

“Gipsy Danger is operational, proceeding to target. We’ll catch up to you soon. Hang in there,” Jean told him. He gritted his teeth, knowing all too well that both Jaegers were too far from Striker Eureka to be of any help. 

But as the Kaiju approached the offlined Jaeger, which stood frozen in the middle of the sea, the monster did not attack. It circled Striker Eureka, baring its glowing maw. 

Then, it turned away, as if losing interest. 

Instead, its gaze locked on its next target -- Crimson Typhoon. 

“I see…” Erwin murmured quietly, his eyes narrowing. 

“What’s going on over there?” Eren’s anxious voice came in over the comms. “Should we turn back?” 

“No,” Erwin replied decisively. “Proceed to the Breach, Coyote Tango. Unfortunately, it seems that you will likely be going alone. It’s in your hands now.” 

“What? But..." Eren hesitated. 

“Quit freaking out,” Levi told him, apparently unmoved by all that was happening. “Or are you chickening out? It’s not too late. I can do this alone.” 

“I’m going with you!” Eren snapped. “I’m ready! I’ve been waiting for this!” 

Levi tipped his head back against the harness, his posture and expression at ease. “This just means we’ll only have the one shitty monster to face down there,” he said. “And as for the nuke... we’re riding one. That’ll do fine, don’t you think?”

For a moment, Eren could only stare at him. Slowly, a teeth-baring grin began to spread over his face. It was insane, and Eren couldn’t even tell if Levi really didn’t care or if he was just bluffing, but something about his partner’s calm nonchalance made his blood burn. He wanted to fight. He wanted to win. 

He wanted to put an end to the Kaiju, no matter what it took. 

“Sounds good,” Eren muttered, mimicking Levi’s relaxed posture, even as his body remained tensed with anticipation. 

“No! Eren!” Mikasa yelled, the sudden surge of her feelings making Jean wince. “You can’t do that! Turn back!” 

“It’s fine, Mikasa,” Eren said quietly. “You said you’d trust me, didn’t you? Trust in the captain too. It’s only one Kaiju now, and then..."

“The escape pod will work even from the Breach,” Levi said. “It’ll be a shame saying goodbye to this old junkpile though.”

Mikasa quieted, and Jean sighed in relief as her attention returned to their Jaeger. Still, she couldn’t give up without one last protests. “But why can’t the mission wait? Why not until the next event? If it’s just one Kaiju..."

“We can’t wait,” the commander replied, his calm voice cutting across the pilots’ chatter. “We can’t allow them that kind of opening, or there's no telling what trap they’ll lay next. Creating a Kaiju that can take out the Jaegers this cleanly, timing their attack to isolate our best pilot, targeting Striker Eureka, which was carrying the payload... They’ve already come too far.

“It has to end here.” 

\------------

“All of that... All of that was intentional?” Jean muttered to himself, the commander’s words sending a deep chill down his spine. Something pooled in his gut -- fear? Or was it anger?

Erwin was right. It was too clean, too well arranged. 

A Kaiju with just the right ability to disable Striker Eureka, the most advanced of Jaegers, but also the one with the most complex and least shielded systems, simultaneously rendering useless the nuclear bomb Striker Eureka carried. 

An attack timed perfectly to make sure Coyote Tango, piloted by the legendary Captain Levi, was too far to turn back in time to assist and would likely end up facing whatever came out of the Breach alone, not to mention catching Striker Eureka itself in the middle of transport. 

All this, in the middle of the operation that could end the Kaiju threat once and for all...

The commander was right. It was too much of a coincidence. Just what kind of enemy were they facing? 

Next to him, Mikasa could no longer maintain a calm facade through her fear and concern. He could feel her worry for Eren bleeding through the Drift. 

But more than fear, more than worry, they were both angry. 

Their mutual rage burned brighter and brighter with every heavy step Gipsy Danger took. It was frightening to Jean in its intensity, but Mikasa found it familiar and almost meditative. This was the feeling Eren had carried for over ten years, what drove him to keep going no matter what. Of course she hadn’t been able to convince him to stay back. 

She knew this feeling, knew how to hone it into a fine edge. 

Their enemy was in front of them. It would not be there for much longer. 

The Kaiju reached Crimson Typhoon first, and they could only watch, steadily advancing, as the two titans met in battle. 

The red Jaeger was moving sluggishly, and just as Reiner had said, the special third arm array appeared to be completely down. Nonetheless, Crimson Typhoon managed to dodge the Kaiju’s initial charge and landed a heavy blow onto the electromagnetic organ on its back. The luminescent blue-green innards popped, covering the Jaeger’s fist in glowing fluid. The Kaiju howled in pain and rage. 

It had stumbled under the blow, but its anger seemed to give it renewed strength. One massive, thick arm swept out, impacting against the Jaeger’s legs. The thick armored hide crunched through armor and joints, and Crimson Typhoon was sent toppling into the sea. 

Even as the Kaiju straightened and roared again, the Jaeger did not rise out of the water. Over the comms, techs were shouting -- water filling the cockpit, neural connection destabilized, status of the pilots unknown. 

“Reiner? Bertholt!” Jean called out, trying to will Gipsy Danger to run, but the old Jaeger had not been designed to sustain such a motion. “Dammit! Leonhart?! Hang in there, we’re almost to you!” 

“Reiner’s unconscious,” Bertolt’s strained voice came over the line. “We’re down. It’s up to you, Gipsy Danger.” 

The Kaiju was already turning away, facing its next opponent. As with Striker Eureka, it seemed to have no interest in Jaegers that could not fight. At least they would be safe for now. 

“Understood,” Jean said. “You’ve done enough. Leave it to us.” A strange sort of calm had settled over him. He was afraid, just like always, in the face of such a monster. But it didn’t matter anymore. He would fight, regardless. They would fight until their last breath. 

“This is our part. Trust us,” Mikasa murmured, almost to herself. She seemed to realize something, a faint smile spreading across her face before her entire focus narrowed to the enemy in front of them. 

Jean could feel her half-formed, instinctual assessment through the Drift. The Kaiju was charging again, but they already knew it was smart. It would expect them to try to dodge, the way Crimson Typhoon had. 

Mikasa had no intention of doing that. 

The Kaiju was almost on them, but Mikasa had calculated exactly how long it would take for the GD6 Chain Sword to deploy. The last sections snapped into place just as Gipsy Danger burst into action, throwing its entire weight into a forward lunge. 

There was a terrifying moment where they were completely off balance, at the mercy of gravity and momentum, but Mikasa did not even waver. Jean could only follow her movements and intentions as Gipsy Danger twisted gracefully under the Kaiju’s massive grasping hands and thrust the Chain Sword under one armpit. Using their momentum, they turned the blade to saw through thick hide, muscle and even bone. 

They landed heavily on both legs, joints and muscle strands straining to absorb the impact, and slid along the sea floor before coming to a stumbling stop. The Kaiju’s left arm went flying through the air, accompanied by an agonized screech. 

However, they had miscalculated. They had assumed that the Kaiju would need to recover, delayed by the pain of its injury and its own lunge. Instead, the monster seemed to become incensed with agony. It did not falter for even a moment, simply spinning around and lunging for Gipsy Danger, still off-balance after its attack. 

It slammed straight into the Jaeger’s back, almost knocking Gipsy Danger off its feet and into the water. Jean reacted just in time, catching them with the right arm before the Jaeger could be pushed flat on its face. He cursed as alarms blared, machinery straining under the weight. 

Mikasa tried to force the Jaeger to turn, thrusting the Chain Sword at the Kaiju on its undefended left side. But the monster was faster, clamping its jaw onto the Jaeger’s wrist. Through Mikasa, Jean could feel the echo of neural feedback, enough to know that the Plasma Caster and Chain Sword were both disabled from the Kaiju’s crushing bite. 

There was still one weapon left in that arm. 

It would hurt like hell, but Mikasa didn’t hesitate. Gritting her teeth, she twisted the Jaeger’s arm, the wrist tearing off entirely, and thrust it deeper into the Kaiju’s maw. At the same time, the rocket installed in the elbow activated. It fired, sending the remains of Gipsy Danger’s left arm slamming deep into the Kaiju’s mouth. 

Mikasa barely bit back a scream as the stump of the arm bent under the pressure, seemingly doing more damage to itself than the Kaiju. But their real goal had been achieved -- the Kaiju was forced to back away, giving them enough room to finally turn. Already, the right arm was forming its Plasma Caster. 

There was no time for a full charge. Instead, with a yell, Jean rammed the cannon into the Kaiju’s severed shoulder, where the armor and hide had been shorn away, and fired at half-power. The monster’s massive bulk shuddered, jerking away from Gipsy Danger. It swayed, but Jean didn’t wait to see if it had been enough. He fired again, and again, until the Kaiju’s body was knocked away, tipping over crashing into the sea.

Gipsy Danger straightened slowly, its pilots panting and struggling to center themselves. Their hearts were racing, as if expecting another attack, but their focus had tunneled onto the corpse bleeding acid-blue into the water, its wound too massive for the Plasma Caster to cauterize. 

“The Kaiju has gone silent,” a LOCCEN tech reported in the sudden silence. “Gipsy Danger has won.” 

“Well done, Ackerman, Kirschstein,” the commander congratulated them. 

At the sound of his voice, both pilots let out a heavy, shuddering breath, tension seeping out of their trembling bodies as the Jaeger slumped in relief together with them. 

They relaxed too soon. 

Preoccupied with monitoring the status of the Kaiju, of Gipsy Danger’s faltering systems, of Coyote Tango, still enroute to the Breach, even the LOCCEN techs didn’t notice another set of notifications appear on screen. 

Another shape rose out of the water behind Gipsy Danger and drew back its arm. 

Alarms blared as Jean and Mikasa jerked, yelling in pain and shock. Around them, the Jaeger’s Conn Pod shuddered and went dark, only the emergency backup systems still active. 

“What happened?” 

“Gipsy Danger’s main power line’s been severed! It’s offline!” 

“Damage to the reactor, initiating emergency shutdown procedures!” 

“We’re not detecting any movement from the Kaiju!” 

“Another event?” 

“No,” the commander said, his voice even and cold. 

His eyes were fixed on the screen that showed not enemies, but their own units, those who had been removed from immediate battle. Beside Coyote Tango’s unchanging standby status and Striker Eureka’s empty indicators, another marker was suddenly filled with activity. 

Hange followed his gaze, her eyes narrowing. 

“Crimson Typhoon... has reactivated?”

\----------

A choking silence filled Gipsy Danger’s cockpit. 

“How... How is that possible? What the hell is going on?!” Jean burst out, his voice loud, but shaking with surprise and something else. He didn’t want to put a name to that feeling, or to the terrible understanding that was beginning to dawn. 

Crimson Typhoon -- a Jaeger supposedly taken out of combat -- was active again. And there was no denying that it was the one standing behind Gipsy Danger, circular saw deployed from one arm, still spinning and dripping Gipsy Danger’s coolant and fluids. It had been the one to tear apart the older Jaeger’s armor and rip out a vital component of its main power line, something requiring precision and an intimate knowledge of the Jaeger’s schematics. 

And a sudden, merciless surprise attack which would have been impossible in the middle of combat. 

“Braun, Hoover, Leonhardt, report,” Erwin called out. His tone was cold and even, almost painfully so, given the almost insane situation they had been thrown into without warning. 

“Crimson Typhoon reactor safeties have been manually disengaged!” a LOCCEN tech reported, usually professional voice growing frantic. “It’ll overload!”

“Override it,” Erwin ordered. 

The techs were already scrambling to obey. “It’s not working! The shutdown commands are being refused!” 

“What the hell is going on? Reiner! Bertolt!” Jean screamed, desperately trying to will Gipsy Danger to move. But the Drift had already collapsed, and the only answer was the flickering of faint red failure indicators. 

“It was you. You’re the traitors,” Mikasa said quietly. She sounded almost calm, but Jean could hear the faint trembling in her voice -- not from fear, but from sheer fury. 

“You can’t betray something you never stood for,” Reiner replied. Hadn’t he been knocked out? Jean couldn’t understand any of this. His mind spun, unable to focus on a single thought. “We were never on your side.”

That can’t be true. 

“That can’t be true,” Jean said, uncomprehending. “That’s can’t be right! Reiner, there’s no way you could have bought into that Cult bullshit!”

“Not the Cult,” Reiner agreed. He continued, “Our masters are far greater than those deluded humans.”

“So they are not humans,” the commander concluded. “It’s just as we feared -- beyond the Breach, there is something else, controlling the Kaiju.”

“You figured it out? Of course, that’s the commander for you,” Reiner mused. He sounded the same as he always had -- calm, reliable, with the same tone of admiration. There was simply a weariness in his voice now, as if he had reached the end of his strength. 

It made no sense. How could this be happening?

“The Kaiju are just weapons, sent through with the purpose of destroying us,” Erwin pronounced coldly. “Then what does that make you? Defectors? Converts? Or are you the same as the Kaiju, created by them in the form most suited to your function?”

Some of it, he and his people had simply guessed, based on their observations and intuition, some -- Ymir had been able to tell them, from her own experiences Drifting with the Kaiju during her time with the Cult. 

His words were shocking in their accuracy. 

“You do not need to Drift with a Kaiju to transfer information,” Erwin judged. “In fact, you are part of the Kaiju hivemind. Your mental shielding is truly impressive, to have been able to hide that connection and the truth of your nature.” 

The silence stretching as Reiner seemed to hesitate. The commander’s eyes narrowed, his expression almost predatory.

“Or has that been a double edged sword? Those same skills would allow you to separate from the rest of the hivemind, and..."

“It doesn’t matter!” Reiner barked suddenly. “Nothing you say matters! None of this, none of us will leave this place alive!” 

As if to emphasize his words, another alarm blared as Crimson Typhoon’s reactor passed the next safety margin. Jaegers were built to be as safe and reliable as possible -- they were meant to be able to take catastrophic damage in combat, without becoming a threat to the very cities they were protecting. A truly astounding number of safeties had been built into every Jaeger. 

But even they could be circumvented by those determined enough. Pilots were in no way encouraged to even consider self-destructing their Jaegers as a last ditch attack on the Kaiju, but they were taught the opposite, where the weak points of the reactor were, what to look out for, should the safeties fail somehow. 

Using that knowledge in reverse, the pilots of Crimson Typhoon were systematically setting its reactor on the path to overload. 

As Levi had said, they were each riding a nuke. If they didn’t do something, it would explode, with all the force of the bomb they had planned to send through the Breach. Hong Kong would be wiped out. The Shatterdome would be gone. All that remained of the Jaeger program, the only hope humanity had, would be destroyed, along with the vital knowledge they had gained. 

“You won’t win,” Mikasa said, forcing the words out past her gritted teeth. She, like Jean, was trying everything possible to get Gipsy Danger to move, even just for a minute more. “Eren and the captain will destroy the Breach. No matter what you do, you can’t stop them!” 

“They won’t succeed. Even if they survive the next one to come through, they won’t be able to open the Breach,” Reiner replied. “They don’t have the key.” 

“Oh?” Erwin drew out. “Do you?” 

“Enough,” Annie broke in, speaking up for the first time since Crimson Typhoon’s deployment. “It’s time to end this.” 

They were out of time. 

“You’ll be killed too!” Jean yelled, finally finding his voice. “What the hell are you doing, Reiner?!” 

Reiner laughed, finally beginning to sound as desperate and broken as Jean felt. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “We were always just short-lived murderers.” 

“Stop it! Just stop! What are you doing?! Aren’t you human too?” Jean shouted. “How can you-- How could you?! To our friends, our classmates! My--!” 

My partner. He choked on the words. Marco. How could someone he had seen as a friend, trained and fought beside, have been responsible for Marco’s death?

“It’s not as if we wanted to!” 

It had been Bertolt who answered, his quiet, complicit facade finally cracking. 

“We didn’t want to kill anyone! But we’re not like you! There’s nowhere for us to go!” His voice broke off, and they could hear him gasping as if swallowing a sob. “We’re not like the others either. We didn’t ask to have this ugly, fragile bodies. We didn’t want to be left alone in this ugly world. We could have died too! We even lost--” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Annie spoke again, cutting through his choked words. Her voice was almost lifeless. “It’s all over now.” 

“Crimson Typhoon’s reactor is about to pass the final safety barrier! The damage cascade will become irreversible!” the LOCCENT techs yelled out the final warning. They were at the point of no return. 

“Commander!”

“Sir!”

“Erwin!” Even Hange added her voice. 

The commander let his eyes slip shut. 

“Engage it now,” he said quietly. “Code: 885-ZGS-EMA.”

Suddenly, everything fell silent. In Gipsy Danger’s cockpit, the only sound was the echoing of Jean’s breathing.

“Killswitch engaged,” the voice of a LOCCEN tech cut through the stillness. “Crimson Typhoon has gone dark. Reactor internal levels returning to safety limits.” 

“...What? What happened?” Jean wondered, daring to exchange a befuddled look with Mikasa. Her brow was furrowed, thoughtful and a little frustrated, as she appeared to realize something. 

“...You knew all along,” she muttered. 

The commander smiled blandly. 

“Recently, a new killswitch system was installed in the Jaegers, in addition to the normal overrides,” Erwin said, his tone even and suggesting nothing. “Unfortunately, with the situation being so chaotic, we did not have a chance to brief the pilots. It seems our safety measures have paid off.” 

“What the hell..." Jean muttered, letting himself slump against the pilot harness. “His full confidence my ass..." A hysterical laugh bubbled up in his throat, his shoulders shaking, but what came out was more like a groan. Next to him, Mikasa just looked annoyed. 

The commander had played all of them. He pretended to reveal everything simply to provoke them, while keeping the most importants close to his chest. He had known who the traitors were before he had ever told them he suspected such a thing. 

No, it went even further back. He had left to retrieve Striker Eureka just to give the Kaiju a chance to act, to play straight into his hands. 

“That’s the commander for you,” Jean muttered to himself. 

In the command center, Erwin tapped at the controls. 

“What happened? Why did you cut communications?” Eren’s impatient, worried voice demanded. 

“So did you deal with that shit on your end?” Levi asked, by contrast sounding bored and unsurprised. “I didn’t expect to hear from you again.”

Erwin smiled. “The situation here has been dealt with, and we’ve received confirmation on that last matter,” he reported. As Levi acknowledged, Erwin added, “I hadn’t expected to speak with you before the mission concluded, but I wanted you to know that. Everyone here is safe and sound. We’ll be waiting for news of your success.” 

Levi huffed, offering no response, but Eren said, his tone now certain and determined, “Leave it to us! We’ll return soon, victorious.” 

“Good luck. And remember, we are all behind you. We’re counting on you.” 

\-------------

The helicopters’ transport mechanism released, letting Coyote Tango fall into the ocean with a spectacular splash. Levi stoically ignored the jostling of the Conn Pod, but Eren let out a quiet sound that might have been a groan. 

“Don’t puke. I’ll kill you,” Levi warned him. It shouldn’t have mattered, since they were both sealed into their suits, but it was a matter of principle. 

The cockpit was already quickly filling with water, but having regained his balance, Eren seemed unbothered. He craned his head, peering around, and Levi absently allowed the Jaeger to follow the motions. 

Out in the middle of the ocean, there wasn’t much to see, and the light quickly dimmed as they descended deeper and deeper. Nonetheless, Eren hummed quietly in appreciation. 

“Before the Breach, people always thought alien life would come from the stars, didn’t they?” he mused. “But deep beneath the sea is like a whole other world too. I remember reading stories with Armin about the things you might find down here -- giant sea monsters, lost cities..."

“Pretty sure we’re not going to find anything like that,” Levi said. 

Eren chuckled. “Probably not. But we’re going to see another world, aren’t we? Amazing,” he said. “I wonder how many people get to fulfil their childhood dream like that?” 

He sounded calm, though they had kept their Drift too shallow for Levi to accurately judge his emotions. Still, it was clear that he had no hesitation about the mission, not at this last moment. Even if Levi offered, he wouldn’t turn back. 

“Of course, I’m getting to fulfil my other goal too... Ending the Kaiju threat,” Eren continued. He smiled grimly. “I guess I’m pretty lucky, huh?” 

Below, a faint red glow had flickered into sight. 

“We’ve located the Breach,” Levi reported, as Coyote Tango landed heavily on the ocean floor. “Proceeding toward it now.”

It was hard to move through the heavy, deep water, and a large counter showed all too clearly that even a Jaeger would not be able to withstand the pressure at that depth for long. Eren’s brow furrowed as he was forced to concentrate on taking each successive step. Even in underwater simulations, conditions had never been this bad. 

His eyes darted to the captain, but Levi’s expression was the same as usual, showing no signs of strain. But then, he would keep on fighting until it killed him, Eren knew. 

Coyote Tango’s headlights revealed a rocky terrain, studded with jutting stone spires and crisscrossed by narrow ravines. In the dark distance, volcanic vents pulsed with a red light. Ahead, the unnatural shape of the Breach burned like a brand. 

“We have activity in the Breach!” a tech’s slightly distorted voice reported. “It’s an event!” 

The tear in space flared, giving off what looked like lightning, even underwater. It appeared to widen, and a massive dark shape burst forth -- first, a giant head bearing the wide two-pronged crest of a hammerhead shark, followed by two distorted arms, a long body, and finally three thick tails. 

It was, if Eren had to guess, more than twice the size of any previous Kaiju. 

“Calculating water displacement, toxicity levels..." Hange muttered over the comm, her voice growing frenetic. “It’s Category V! The first ever seen!” She laughed wildly. “I wish I could be there! What’s it like? How magnificent is it?” 

“It’s ugly,” Levi replied flatly, but his attention was fixed on the Kaiju, eyes darting in an attempt to follow it. In the water, it had a major advantage over them. Whipping its three tails, it slipped seamlessly through the sea depths and circled away from the Breach and the Jaeger’s headlights. 

In the Conn Pod, the instruments -- impeded by the water -- struggled to keep track of its movements. 

“Stay on course toward the Breach,” Levi instructed. 

Eren nodded. “Right. We need to focus on closing it,” he muttered, almost to himself. 

Levi snorted. “Don’t worry, we’ll get that ugly piece of shit too. We need it to pass through anyway.” 

“What?” 

“The only things able to pass through that shit hole are Kaiju,” Levi said shortly. “So we need a Kaiju to pass through too. Well, a carcass will do.” 

That had been another thing the commander had been able to determine and confirm, but did not share with the pilots -- or at least, not most of the pilots. Eren couldn’t quite stifle a quite sound of frustration at all the things that had been hidden from them. 

There was no point in whining about it though. 

“It’s coming around,” Levi noted, his eyes darting to the sensor readouts. The indistinct indicator of the Kaiju had circled toward them, speeding up as it approached. 

Eren couldn’t help but glance in its direction, Coyote Tango’s head following the motion. Tiny light flashed in the darkness -- the Kaiju’s wide-spaced eyes -- and the next thing Eren saw was its massive glowing maw bursting open and aiming for the Jaeger. 

Levi was already guiding Coyote Tango to crouch, knees bending before it threw itself into a graceful jump and flip. In a maneuver that would have been impossible on the surface, the Jaeger leapt over the Kaiju, turning head over heels just as the long body of the monster passed below. 

One arm shot out to grab hold of the glowing spikes on the Kaiju’s back, and using them to anchor itself, the Jaeger completed its flip. Its feet slammed into the monster’s back, and they were suddenly riding the Kaiju as it bucked wildly, still swimming at an amazing speed. 

Eren had moved to extend the Energy Caster from Coyote Tango’s free hand, but a push from Levi through the Drift redirected his actions. Instead, Eren jammed the Jaeger’s other hand deep into the Kaiju’s scales, using both arms to pull it closer to the monster’s back. 

They acted not a moment too soon. One of the Kaiju’s tails lashed just over the Jaeger, the blade-like tip almost taking off Coyote Tango’s mortar cannons -- and its head. The second tail followed, but the Jaeger kicked off from the Kaiju’s back, letting the threat pass under it. 

As Coyote Tango’s entire body rotated relative to its hold on the Kaiju, the twin mortar cannons -- altered for underwater use -- were brought into position, pointing straight into the Kaiju’s back. 

The Jaeger opened fire -- releasing its hold in the same instance. 

Both shots impacted squarely into the Kaiju’s neck, sending it crashing into the rocky ocean floor. As it slid, its bulk breaking through several large spires, Coyote Tango righted itself in mid-fall and descended with surprising grace. 

This time, the extra friction of the water worked against them. The Jaeger had barely touched down by the time the Kaiju pulled itself up and launched forward again, its maw open in a roar that vibrated through the heavy ocean waters. Luminescent ribbons of blood marked its path, snaking from its deep wounds. 

There was no time to dodge fully, even for Levi. But even so, Coyote Tango moved to avoid a direct hit, the Kaiju’s claws just barely scraping over one side. Unwilling to let its prey escape, it used its tails to catch hold of the Jaeger as it passed. Turning around sharply, it reared its head back and thrust in, jaws over wide. 

Coyote Tango raised one arm, letting the monster bite down with enough force to crunch through its armor. Levi’s eyes narrowed with pain and irritation. However, on the Jaeger’s other arm, its Energy Caster had already extended and begun to charge. 

Ramming the cannon under the Kaiju’s jaw, Coyote Tango fired. The force of the blast jerked the Kaiju back, forcing its jaw open. Wasting no time, the Jaeger used its freed hand to grab hold of the Kaiju’s hammerhead crest and hold it in place as the cannon on its other arm fired again. 

Each subsequent blast pushed the Kaiju further, while keeping it too pained to do more than thrash blindly. Using its hold on the monster, Coyote Tango flipped the Kaiju, and the final shot sent it slamming into the ocean floor on its back. 

They had almost certainly taken out its front brain by that point, but neither pilot had any intention of waiting for find out. A red glow flickered in the corner of Eren’s eye, and the Jaeger was moving before the thought had even fully formed in his mind. 

Using both hands, Coyote Tango swung the Kaiju’s body around and slammed it onto one of the many undersea vents surrounding the Breach. At the last moment, the monster jerked as if trying to pull away, but it was too late. 

The heat of the vent seared through even the Kaiju’s thick hide, into its secondary brain. The body spasmed, and Eren thought he saw something move inside, beneath the skin, but it was over too quickly to tell. 

“Kaiju threat eliminated. Proceeding to the Breach,” Levi reported, his voice almost bored. 

Letting go of the head, Coyote Tango grasped instead one of the trailing tails and pulled the Kaiju off the vent as it resumed its trek toward the pulsing rend in space. The pilots’ displays reconfigured, showing instead the readings coming off the Breach. Compared to predictions and earlier data, it was still open. 

The battle had been almost astoundingly short, under two minutes, just as Levi had predicted. No single opponent -- even a Category V -- could put up a real fight against the legendary pilot. 

As Levi drew back, letting out a quiet breath, most of the burden of keeping the Jaeger moving shifted to Eren. The younger pilot glanced at his partner, but the light playing along the visor of his helmet hid any signs of neural strain. Instead, Levi had focused on the Jaeger’s internal systems interface. 

“Initiating controlled overload,” he announced, even as several systems began to flash red warning indicators. To Eren, Levi added quietly, “We can’t just ditch the Jaeger in and run, you understand? Someone has to keep it on course and confirm delivery.” 

“Understood,” Eren said, focusing his attention back on Coyote Tango. “Leave it to me, Captain.” 

The Breach was directly in front of them now. External sensors had begun to flicker wildly, some showing readings off the charts, some showing nothing at all. For all of Armin’s theories, the Breach was beyond the understanding of modern science. Up close, it really did look like a hole in the fabric of the world itself. 

Eren stared into it, mesmerized. That was the opening Levi had been looking for. 

His hand reached for a set of levers between, their more modern style marking them as a later addition to the cockpit. They had been installed at the same time as the escape pod, in case one of the pilots was incapacitated, so their partner would be able to manually operate their harness and move them into the pod. 

Like so many other things, Levi had considered a pointless gesture, but it would have a use now. After all, it would work just as well even if the other pilot was still conscious. 

His fingers curled around the lever. 

But as his grip tightened, about to pull, something warm and heavy settled over his hand, holding it down. 

Levi jerked in surprise, his gaze snapping to his partner. Eren smiled, his hand squeezing Levi’s, beneath it. Had he been able to read Levi’s intentions through the Drift? Had he just guessed? 

It didn’t matter. 

“There’s no guarantee that we’ll be able to return,” Levi told him, his perpetual frown deepening. However, there was no real anger in his voice. “Even if it’s possible, we’ll be cutting it close.” 

“It’s alright,” Eren said firmly. “We’ll make it back. Everyone is waiting for us, Captain.” 

Levi gritted his teeth, knowing -- having known from the start -- that he wouldn’t be able to convince Eren to change his mind. It was stupid, pointless. He could taste the blood on his lips, feel it running down his chin -- disgusting. No matter what Erwin, Hange and this brat thought, he couldn’t bring himself to believe in any outcome but one. 

What could they see that he couldn’t? 

But in truth, he wanted to believe in them. 

Red indicators flared, sounding a sharp alarm, as the Jaeger’s reactor passed the next safety margin. There was no more time to hesitate. 

Levi sighed. His orders were clear, weren’t they?

Planting its feet, Coyote Tango swung the corpse of the Kaiju around and into the Breach. As the massive bulk fell forward, the Jaeger pushed off and let itself be dragged beside the monster’s body. Together, the two massive shapes disappeared into the light. 

\----------

Epilogue

Opening the pill bottle, Levi shook out two of the small capsules and popped them into his mouth. Rather than dry swallow, he reached for the cup of tea that had been left on his desk. It was cold and tasted frankly disgusting, he realized with a grimace. 

With that chore completed, there was no more reason to stall. He pulled up the message he had set aside before, taking his time reading over the words. 

_“Hello Captain!_

_How are you doing? You looked okay when I saw you on the news, but it was a little hard to tell since you just hung back the whole time Commander Smith was on camera. I heard you received another medal. Sorry about missing the award ceremony, but to be fair, you didn’t exactly tell me there was one to attend._

_I’m still traveling around the Pacific Rim. Like I said in my last message, I’m working as a freelance photographer. There’s actually a lot of demand for my photos right now, since all the magazines are doing special features for the anniversary._

_It’s hard to believe that it’s been almost a year. I feel like I'm still getting used to no longer having to wait for the next Kaiju attack. It’s so amazing to think the alarms are never going to sound again._

_The rebuilding efforts have come a long way -- especially when it comes to taking down the useless Wall. It’s completely gone in some places, though that’s usually not thanks to the government deconstruction projects, but because people just snuck off with it, piece by piece. I’m sure it’s being put to better use now, wherever it is._

_Out of our group, everyone has really gone their separate ways since then. Mikasa’s going to university now. She hasn’t decided on a major, but I’m sure she’ll do great at anything. That Jean finally decided to go back to his hometown, after he finished with the list he got from the commander. It’s weird that he didn’t go before, but he said that now he doesn’t care what questions they ask. I heard from Mikasa that he signed up for the police academy._

_I saw Connie and Sasha while I was traveling. They’re both helping with Kaiju Blue purification projects. They didn’t even get to do anything in the end, but they’re both milking their fame for all it’s worth. I was kind of surprised they didn’t stay on as pilots. They’re the only complete pilot and Jaeger set now, aren’t they? They’d probably never have to pay for another meal. Not that they’re paying for their meals now either. I’ve never been given so many free drinks in my life..._

_Armin's been busy with that think tank, the one about the Breach and parallel worlds. At least, I think. Maybe you heard. Last time I dropped by, Doctor Hange was there too. She’s studying civilian applications of Drift technology, isn’t she? I didn’t get to ask, since she spent the entire time moaning about her assistant eloping. What did she mean? Isn’t Moblit still working for her?_

_I’m attaching pictures of everyone and some other shots I took. I think the ones from Manila are especially nice._

_I’ve been thinking that maybe we should meet again for the one year celebration. Kind of like a reunion, you know? It’ll be a bit hard to get everyone in one place, but I think it would be worth it._

_The only ones I haven’t been able to get a hold of are the Crimson Typhoon pilots. It’s like they dropped off the face of the Earth. Have you or the commander heard from them?_

_\- Eren Jaeger”_

Levi huffed, finishing the message. “Damn brat,” he muttered under his breath, but even so, he carefully selected to download the images attached, into a special folder he kept out of sight in the most obscure corner of his drive. 

There was a single image already stored there -- a photograph, dated almost a year before. It showed the smiling faces of six pilots, two science officers and their commander, fresh from the struggle that had led to humanity’s greatest victory. 

The end of the Kaiju War. 

\----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry, for everything. For my entire existence. I’m never writing crucial scenes at 2 am again, I swear. ~~I’ll totally do it again.~~
> 
> The way I see it, Jean is the POV character and the basic audience surrogate, of sorts. Levi is the actual hero who saves the world. Eren is the one who makes it possible to have a happy ending, instead of just a bittersweet one.
> 
> I don’t care if I’m not being true to the original Shingeki spirit. I can’t do that! I’m not that kind of writer! ;_;
> 
> Again, I'd like to thank the OP of the prompt on the dreamwidth kink meme, who endured the whole meandering disaster and commented all the way through. I probably couldn't have finished without them.
> 
> For the infiltrator trio: There are two ways to interpret Eren’s message about them. Either Mikasa prevailed on everyone to not tell him what really happened and he genuinely doesn’t know, or Eren is being careful not to leave any evidence about the coverup Erwin no doubt undertook concerning those three. Like Erwin’s earlier message to Levi -- telling him to talk to Hange, worded like a suggestion to be more social, actually an order to go get briefed by her -- Eren could be actually asking for an update about their current status. 
> 
> As for what happens to them... It’s a mystery. Physically, they’re obviously completely human -- otherwise something would have been noticed during their time in the Jaeger Program. The only difference is that they were linked to the hivemind. However, judging by what we know of the drugs Hange gives Ymir and Levi, they would interfere with that and render BRA totally human. 
> 
> Like I said, I think Erwin would cover it all up to hell and back, but I don’t know what he’d do after. Since the author has no idea, you don’t get to find out either. :|
> 
> Thanks again for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I just wrote and I can only say I'm glad it's over. Now, on to the actual plot. (Jean, I hate you, and I don't understand you at all. Those two things are probably connected.)


End file.
